


Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun

by myadamantiumheart



Category: Naruto
Genre: Multi, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Vampires, Voyeurism, misuse of mokuton, same age au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 40,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myadamantiumheart/pseuds/myadamantiumheart
Summary: A (mostly) Team-Minato-Centric, frequently polyamorous, hopefully a little bit spooky Kinktober 2020 based off the 2020 prompts from syven-siren on tumblr.Each chapter is tagged and titled with pairings and prompt, and warnings will be available in the notes.Happy October, y'all!
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Namikaze Minato/Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi/Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi/Yamato | Tenzou, Konan/Nohara Rin, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Mikoto/Uzumaki Kushina
Comments: 56
Kudos: 115





	1. vampire + handcuffs (kakaobi+rin)

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, Kinktober here we come! Here's the list I'm using: https://syven-siren.tumblr.com/post/628576073595207680/kinktober-2020-updated
> 
> This will be about all of Team Minato in various ways, with various pairings. Some are requested and some are my own, but I'm happy to write them all just the same.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito's in a sticky situation. Kakashi's definitely willing to take advantage. 
> 
> Feat: handcuffs, blowjobs, and Rin trying her best to get some work done.

“You can stop trying to break them,” Kakashi says, bored as can be, inspecting his fingernails with studied nonchalance. “They’re reinforced with silver, dead-last. Sensei gave them to me before he went to report to Jiraiya.” 

“Be nice,” Rin scolds, smacking him over the back of the head with her thick stack of files before dumping them on the kitchen table. “Sorry, Obito, I promise we’ll let you out soon-”

“If the ritual didn’t actually manage to make him lose his mind-”

“When it’s safe for everyone, including you-”

“Not that he had much left to lose-” Obito growls at both of them, baring his fully extended fangs to the warmth of Minato-sensei’s well appointed kitchen. Well, mostly at Kakashi. Rin’s being her usual sweet self (emphasis on the sweet, because she’d let him have a teensy little bit of her blood to help heal his wounds when the two of them sprung him from the wacky cult ritual he’d gotten caught up in.) 

“Kakashi,” Rin hisses, pointing her pen at him like she’ll really take his only remaining natural eye out with it in a heartbeat if he continues. “It’s just to make sure he’s not lost to bloodlust, and you know that, so be kind to him. You got stabbed by cultists just two weeks ago, don’t even pretend you’re some kind of paragon of safety.” 

“Well, Obito?” Kakashi asks him, looking vaguely cowed by their girlfriend’s threats. “Any insatiable urge to kill?”

“No,” he grunts, shifting yet again, flashing his fangs at Kakashi again just to be contrary. The handcuffs really _are_ quite uncomfortable, leaving a dull ache all the way up his arms from the silver so close to his skin. “But I could make an exception just for you, asshole.”

“You two make it really hard to get any research done around here, you know that?” Rin mutters, rolling her eyes skyward as though the Goddess herself will grant her enough patience to deal with them. 

“I’ll shut him up,” Kakashi says abruptly, rolling to his feet with sinuous, dangerous grace and stalking around the table where Rin’s research on this particularly nasty group of cultists is all spread out. Obito tries to scoot back in his chair, suddenly all too aware that he can’t do much of anything to stop the oncoming whatever-it-is that his werewolf boyfriend is determined to do to him, but Kakashi’s smirk only grows wider. 

“Hey, hey, hey, I was just kidding,” Obito says, hurriedly backpedalling, even as Kakashi drops to his knees between Obito’s spread legs and pushing them even farther apart with his shoulders. His teeth glint sharply in the reflected light from the lamp hanging above the kitchen table, his eyes rather more golden than grey. 

“Your lack of a filter is going to get you in trouble one of these days,” he murmurs conversationally as a predator’s fingers unbutton Obito’s jeans, slide Obito’s zipper down, sneak into the fabric of his pants with obvious intent. The rough rub of Kakashi’s thumb up the length of Obito’s cock has him bucking, handcuffs clanking against the back of his chair, a muffled yelp tumbling out of his mouth. Rin carries on at the table, scribbling notes like nothing in particular is happening- like Kakashi isn’t peeling Obito’s briefs down just enough to free his rapidly hardening erection so he can lick a stripe along the side of it. She really has perfected ignoring them to a fine, fine art. 

“What- you- I’m-” Obito stutters, back arching helplessly, wrists aching fiercely. He wants to reach out, to thread his fingers through Kakashi’s hair and _yank_ on it, to drag him up for a kiss and pull him into his lap. He doesn’t remember what he’d been complaining about- the light? The hunger? The handcuffs? They’re not so bad, now that he thinks about it. “ _Kakashi_ , what are you...” 

“Why don’t you be nice and quiet so Rin can get some work done,” Kakashi says, tilting his head at Obito, every inch a wolf on the hunt with his prey directly in sight, “and let me suck your cock, already.” 

“Oh,” he mouths weakly, stuck on the way Kakashi’s pink lips part around the head of his erection. “Okay, okay-” Kakashi doesn’t waste any time after that, licking a hot circle around and then swallowing him down without delay. He tries to heed Kakashi’s words at least a little, practically bites a hole in his lower lip and squirms when Kakashi just faintly runs the edge of his sharp-too-sharp canine along sensitive nerves. Rin _is_ working awfully hard, and he’s got to be quiet, and oh, oh, it’s hard to focus when Kakashi wraps his plush mouth around Obito like that and sucks. “ _Kashi_ ,” he begs, arms shaking with the effort not to pull against the metal too hard and intensify the dull pain of the silver. 

“Shhh,” Kakashi breathes against him, grinning as he licks sloppily at the thin thread of precum dripping from him. It says something about his general risk perception and probably fucked up kinks that the sight of Kakashi’s deadly teeth framing his cock this way make him that much harder, make him stifle a whine, make it hard to stay still. The handcuffs make it impossible to move with Kakashi’s bobbing head the way he wants to, to curl around him or reach back and reciprocate any of his affection, and it’s killing him in the best of ways. For a moment, he thinks further- this would be nice, some time, with Kakashi sitting on him, around him, kissing him sweetly. Or even nicer, maybe, would be Kakashi sitting in the chair and putting a locked up, helpless Obito right on his dick, moving him any which way with that impossible strength of his. 

“Sensei’s going to be home soon,” Rin mentions helpfully, without even looking up from her work, and Kakashi hums in assent, creating a chain reaction of firing nerves that sizzle through Obito’s spine until he’s gasping for air. His fangs feel hot, mouth open and panting, and he wants to bite something (preferably Kakashi) so fucking bad. He wants to taste the cherry wine of his blood, the rush of the moon’s magic in his bones, the sweet warm hot-spring honey feeling of it soaking through every inch of his cold body. It’s torturous and wonderful and Kakashi doesn’t let up at all, even when Obito warns him that he’s going to-

“ _Kashi_ ,” he moans brokenly, coming hard and shuddering, writhing up into his boyfriend’s hot mouth as much as he possibly can. Kakashi just hums happily around him, sucking and licking until he’s overstimulated and whining. He kisses the tip of Obito’s cock so gently, tucking him back in with careful hands, and then wipes a stray drop of cum off his lower lip with a rough thumb. 

“Good boy,” he smirks, leaning up to kiss Obito’s slack mouth and steal what’s left of his breath. Rin just laughs quietly in the background, the three of them hearing Minato’s key in the lock of the front door just in time. 

Obito manages to stay quiet, after that. 


	2. ghost + asphyxiation (kakaobi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito's been a ghost for a long time. Kakashi makes him feel alive. 
> 
> feat: choking kink, breathplay

It’s been a long time since Obito had a body the way most other people have a body. He’s corporeal, certainly- he can touch Kakashi, at least. He can spread his fingers across Kakashi’s pale skin, watching his vines twine around Kakashi’s limbs and hold him tightly. Obito is a ghost, a spectre, a shade of his living form. And yet, he’s full of life. The Mokuton holds him here, a soul trapped in a body bursting with energy that is so inhuman he can hardly conceive of himself any longer as the Obito whose body grew for so long in a cave, under watch of a dying man. 

He remembers drifting away.

He doesn’t remember drifting back. 

But he’s here, nonetheless, in Kakashi’s bed, with his arms wrapped around Kakashi’s waist and his lips pressed to Kakashi’s pulse. Obito no longer has one. He only has the warmth of the sun that his mokuton cells take in, and the knowledge that without his soul tethered here, his ghost inhabiting it, he would be nothing more than another one of the Land of Fire’s ubiquitous trees. He doesn’t have to breathe anymore, not the way he once did, either, but it fascinates him to watch Kakashi do so. The respiration in and out, breathing CO2 towards Obito that his cells intake happily. The function of Kakashi’s body drives Obito’s. The rise and fall of his chest, the thumping weight of his heart, the inescapable warmth of his skin. 

In the darkness of the night, when Kakashi wakes again, mumbling incoherently and pressing into Obito with the sleep-soft roll of his hips, Obito takes and he takes and he takes from the other man until both of them feel more alive. He rolls Kakashi out on his back and wraps vibrant fingers around him, tastes the salt of his skin, takes in the sounds of his impossible pleasure. Kakashi pleads for him with his body, without words, arching up into it, and he gives and he gives and he gives until Obito is so full he almost feels like a human again. It’s one of those nights, three fingers deep in his lover and watching the toss of Kakashi’s head back and forth as Obito strokes cruelly over his prostate, that he tries it for the first time. 

He stills Kakashi’s writhing body with his other hand, fingers wrapping around his throat like a collar, watching every inch of his lover go silent and calm. Kakashi looks up at him with dazed eyes, cock twitching in time with each gentle tightening of his hand, until his palm rests against the jumping pulse that Obito _craves_ and Kakashi is gasping for air. 

Each desperate exhale against Obito’s skin is another breath of life, flooding through him, exhilarating. Kakashi watches him silently, his own fingers trembling as he reaches up to grab Obito’s wrist and- for a second, his gut clenches, certain that Kakashi is going to tear him apart, but instead that shaking hand presses him further until the faint wheeze of Kakashi’s throat is all they can hear between them. He arches up, pressing his ass back into Obito’s fingers, and pleads wordlessly for the spiking lightning of Obito’s hands. Obito bends forward, kisses the last bit of oxygen out of Kakashi’s mouth, and then releases his fingers, the slow uncurling of a crocus blooming from the snow. He watches the blood rush through Kakashi’s face, the flush and the pretty whine tumbling from the other man’s throat, the way his gaze drops to the side like he’s embarrassed by his own body’s reactions. 

“You can have it again,” Obito says, so much more gently than the ravenous hunger that he feels, and he wraps his hand around Kakashi’s throat once more. 

“Please, _please_ ,” he pants, almost cut off already by the inexorable weight of Obito’s palm, the press in of callused thumb and index finger, the dizzy hot ache in his gut. Obito feels cut loose, floating far above the earth, because Kakashi _trusts_ him with this. 

“Oh, lovely,” he murmurs, and he means it. It’s so perfect, to watch Kakashi’s flushed face and the way his cock twitches helplessly when Obito squeezes his throat, the whimpering, whining sounds of his wrung out pleasure. He’s not yet experienced this specific thrill, feeling like everything he does sets Kakashi alight from within, feeling the way he gives his breath and his air and his life over to Obito without hesitation. And Kakashi- It’s intoxicating, watching Obito’s face swim a little, feeling the way he never stops fucking his fingers in no matter how much Kakashi tries to jerk away from the pleasure. He never lets up, never gives Kakashi quite enough time to get his bearings back before he’s taking the air away again and Kakashi is pushing up into his touch, hungry for more. 

Obito loves how soft his mouth gets, gasping, slick lips rubbing against each other mindlessly and then falling open when his jaw goes slack and his eyes cross a little in his head. It’s absolutely mindblowing to watch Kakashi stare blindly at the ceiling and try to shout out the last of his air again for the simultaneous harsh crush of Obito’s thumb and finger over his throat and a slow, dragging pull against his prostate. 

“You’re a mess,” he says, so fond, warmth flooding his chest, and Kakashi agrees with a breathless nod, hands grasping for his shoulders and holding on tightly as Obito lets him settle for a brief moment. “But I love you this way, Kakashi, I do, giving me anything I want, letting me get you sloppy-” He leans in to suck Kakashi’s trembling lower lip into his mouth, biting down hard enough that he tastes copper and swallowing down the startled moan his teeth pull from Kakashi’s throat. It’s enough just to kiss him like this, until Kakashi isn’t sure if Obito is sucking the oxygen right out of his lungs or squeezing it out with his hands, until he’s so dizzy that he feels like he’s floating on a storming sea, swirling and disoriented completely. 

The tides roll in and out, Obito pressing and releasing and taking and taking until Kakashi bends under him and cries out wordlessly for the hot, shaking spasms of his orgasm, coming across his stomach in thick stripes. 

Obito is a ghost, a shade, a spectre- but he’s never felt more alive. 


	3. leather + same age superhero au + open marriages (minaobi, kakaminaobi, minakushi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito's fellow heroes can be cruel, when they want to be. 
> 
> They can also be very, very nice. 
> 
> (everyone's in their 20's + superheroes + black leather strikes again)

“I don’t know, I think it looks pretty good,” Minato says, clearly struggling to contain his mirth. Obito just gapes soundlessly, wordlessly, staring completely dumbly at the way Kakashi turns and twists, looking at all angles of his new suit in the mirror. “Although I suppose cats are really more Tenzo’s thing, after all.” 

“It’s comfortable,” Kakashi shrugs finally, bending over to touch his toes and then reaching back up for the ceiling. 

“Is it,” Obito chokes out. He can’t fucking believe this. Minato expects him to patrol with Kakashi in that and, what- get his face bashed in by the first common criminal they find with a crowbar and die the laughingstock of the entire superhero community? Obito doubts that even their golden god could manage it himself, because Minato’s eyes are looking decidedly dazed and rather dreamily locked on the curve of Kakashi’s thighs in that black leather. Obito’s going to tell Kushina on him, because he has to have some way to get back at the other man hanging him out to dry like this. 

“I’m going to try a little training in it, just to warm up before we go,” Kakashi tells him, practically sauntering away. He’s got the skinniest little hips but Obito can’t tear his eyes away, the stretch of the leather across his ass and the movement of his thigh muscles absolutely mesmerizing. He clearly either knows how Obito and Minato are staring at him and doesn’t care, or is actually oblivious to how badly Obito wants to bend him over the control desk and eat him out until he’s  _ sobbing,  _ those pretty legs wrapped around his neck like a collar. Half of Obito wars with the idea of going and watching Kakashi flip around on the practice bars, or kick the shit out of a boxing bag. He could almost reach out and touch, smooth his hand along Kakashi’s lower back, kiss him over that infuriating mask and maybe coax him to take it off for a while. Maybe he’d even offer to help him stretch, or at least get to watch Kakashi bend in half and fuel Obito’s fantasies for another year with that alone. 

The other half of him wants desperately to escape because he’s hard in his gym shorts and Kakashi might actually kill him if he tried to flirt right now while the other man’s getting ready for patrol. He’s too serious about it, unwilling to ever compromise the mission, and god knows that if Kakashi gets mad at him Obito’s going to hear it from Rin too. No, he’ll retreat back to the lockers and start working on his own warmups, because he also can’t be  _ late _ without catching hell from his partner as well. 

He almost forgets about Minato, watching Kakashi with undeniably hungry eyes, until he’s rounding the corner to the lockers and he hears footsteps behind him and Minato’s firm hands pushing him against the wall. Obito doesn’t even bother struggling, really. He knows who it is, knows Minato’s warmth and the sweet-spicy smell of his aftershave. He’s used to it now, has been up-close-and-personal with the man’s chest quite a few times when Konoha’s Yellow Flash has gotten him out of a pinch, and besides- how is he going to outrun the fastest man alive? He braces himself for a lecture (although he won’t take one lying down, that’s for sure, because he saw the way Minato dragged his eyes all over Kakashi like he wanted to eat him alive) but nothing comes. Minato just stares down at him, blue eyes and a faint blush across the top of his elegant cheekbones. 

“You need some help?” he asks, as mild as can be, like he’s not pinning Obito up on the wall and completely stopping him from moving. 

“I’m gonna tell Kushina about you eye-fucking Kakashi in that stupid suit,” Obito says, after a long minute, as though his petulance will get him anywhere at all. He should really know better, after fifteen years of working with the man in front of him, because Minato just keeps watching him, even as he presses Obito further against the wall and slides a thigh between Obito’s legs  _ just _ enough to brush against his half-hard cock. “And also, this- whatever it is,” Obito gripes, looking away from Minato’s intense stare and crossing his arms in embarrassment. 

“You’re the one out of the loop, on this one,” Minato points out, bracing his hands on the brick and leaning in a little, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Kushina already knows.” 

“What?” Obito squawks, and it’s enough to get him facing forward again, nose to nose with Minato, unwillingly enticed by the familiar smell of the cinnamon candies that the older man sucks on all day long. 

“I said,” Minato drawls, dragging his lips along the curve of Obito’s cheek. “Kushina already  _ knows _ . What, you think the two of us sit here in the mansion and never notice you and Kakashi fucking around in your little workout shorts? We’re not  _ blind _ , Obito, and we might not be as young as we once were, but we’re still  _ hot blooded _ .” He slowly, slowly rolls hips, his thigh pushing up further and pressing against Obito’s cock until he stifles a whimper and has to let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk. “Besides, it’s not like Kushina doesn’t have her own… hobbies, as it were. She and Mikoto are more than friends, you know.” 

“Oh, jeez,” he stutters, barely able to think at the heat of Minato, his college crush and certainly the most attractive man Obito’s ever met (besides, well- Kakashi, who both of them are clearly worked up over) draped over him like this. Holy fuck. Suddenly, a lot of things Minato and Kushina joke about, giggling with their heads pushed together and acting like teenagers in love in the middle of the damn base, make more sense. 

“So,” Minato says, laughing not unkindly against the curve of his neck, his teeth dragging gently over Obito’s pulse. “Do you want some help with  _ that _ ?” He grinds against Obito again, grinning at the high, thready moan it shocks out of the younger hero. “Or not?” Obito knows that if he says no, Minato will back off immediately and probably apologize. He’ll help Obito get fully upright again, as conscientious as ever. He’ll leave him be in the locker room and never mention this again. But Minato is also beautiful, and Obito’s gotten himself off thinking about something exactly like this more than a few times, and if he’s not, you know-  _ breaking up a marriage _ -

“Yes,” he finally shivers, arms uncrossing as he gives in to the tangled arousal in his gut. He fists hands in Minato’s tee shirt, holds him even closer and doesn’t feel an ounce of shame when Minato laughs softly at his apparent desperation. Everything started because of that suit, and now both of them are worked up beyond belief. He hopes Kakashi’s new outfit is worth the hassle, because Obito’s never going to be able to look at it again without thinking of this. 

“My, my,” Minato purrs, his lips brushing across Obito’s collarbone, golden hair filling his vision. “It really  _ got _ to you, didn’t it? Seeing him like that?” Obito shudders, letting his head fall back even further, pushing into Minato’s touch. His voice is an absolute  _ experience _ , smooth and commanding in Obito’s ears, just enough on the side of teasing that Obito can tell how smug the other man is. He’s thought about Minato’s voice more than once- over the comms, sometimes, when Minato is fighting somewhere else in the city, breathless and rough from a struggle, Obito can imagine a different source for his exertion. 

“Not that it didn’t affect me too,” Minato continues conversationally, as though he’s not fitting his teeth into Obito’s neck, nipping here and there just to feel the younger man jerk helplessly against him. “It certainly did. He looks perfect like that, doesn’t he? His legs are just a wonder, and there’s really no hiding all of that muscle he’s worked so hard for-” he sighs, pressing his own leg tighter against Obito and watching him roll his hips up against the pressure without even thinking about it. Obito’s red, flushed, completely under his spell, and it’s absolutely intoxicating. “It makes me want to lay him out right there on the table and bite every  _ inch _ of them.” 

“F-fuck,” Obito stumbles, jaw clenching tight as his knees go a little weak, holding onto Minato’s shirt for dear life. He can feel Minato’s breath hot against his throat, and he wants so badly to feel the other man’s teeth, just like he’d said he’d do to Kakashi. He wants the mark, the bruise, the proof that it’s him Minato shoved against the wall like this. “Please, Minato-” he squirms, not even sure what exactly he’s asking for, and Minato takes it kindly anway, kissing softly under his jaw. 

“Please, hmm?” he hums, licking a hot line up from his jumping pulse to the shell of his ear, just so he can whisper directly in and feel the shivers cascading through Obito’s form. “So polite when you want something, Obito. You want to watch me get my hands all over him? I would let you, as long as you sat there patiently like a good little boy and waited your turn. I have things I’d like to do first. We both know he’ll do anything I ask, don’t we? If I ask him to sit on the desk and let me peel the suit right off of him, he’d obey me in a  _ heartbeat _ .” 

Obito pries his eyes open, stares at him like he’s haunted by the concept. His hips jerk a little, rubbing up against Minato’s ridiculous muscles, and Minato only encourages it with a slow, dirty grind. It feels so good that Obito’s sure he’s going crazy, his stomach tangling hot and legs like jelly. He knows it’s true, because he’s seen the way Kakashi snaps to attention whenever Minato asks him for something. Hell, Kakashi’s  _ told _ him about the way he used to fantasize about Minato- still does, even though he and Obito both have learned to somewhat control their immediate reactions to Minato’s commanding tones. 

“I don’t know what I’d rather do first,” Minato murmurs, letting his teeth catch on Obito’s earlobe. He brings one hand down off the wall (of course he can brace himself on just one arm, he’s got deltoids that make Obito  _ drool _ ) and slips it up under the other man’s shirt, trailing clever fingers down from his navel to slide just across his waistband. “Get him on his stomach and eat him out until he’s begging me for it, or tell you to get on your knees and watch you suck his cock just like that.” 

“Please let me,” Obito begs, “I wanna, just wanna get the suit off and get him in my mouth-” 

“Maybe I’ll let you help me,” Minato purrs, rolling his hips enough that Obito can feel his erection, hot against the strip of skin where Obito’s shirt is riding up. Minato slips his fingers down to tug at Obito’s waistband, sliding between his boxers and his shorts and cupping him with a firm palm. “His legs do look particularly nice in that leather, don’t they? Perhaps we can have it both ways, Obito. I’ll bend him over the desk and fuck his thighs just like that and you can sit under there like a good boy, let him use your mouth while I’m too  _ busy _ to get to you.”

Obito whimpers, high and desperate, humping up against Minato’s hand and whining for it. The thought of Minato asking him that- he’d drop to his knees without a second thought, let Kakashi fuck into his mouth and take his pleasure while Minato got between those beautiful  _ legs _ . Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s losing his mind. Minato’s always been powerfully compelling, but having him suggest things like this, orders like  _ that _ , is melting Obito’s brain right out of his skull. 

“Ah, you’re so sweet like this, darling,” Minato pulls his head up, brushes his lips just across Obito’s, a tease that leaves him listing forward, looking for more. Minato leans into it, kissing him softly, just shy of enough pressure for him to truly feel it. He wants to be a little bratty about it, to dart forward and  _ take _ Minato’s mouth, but he tries his best to stay still even as he shakes. “You’re just a mess, aren’t you? It makes you weak just thinking about me spreading him out like that and having him.” Minato rocks against him more firmly, stroking his hand up the length of Obito’s cock and teasing at the head, rubbing his thumb against the growing wet spot in his underwear. “It’s cute. I thought you would be more tetchy about it, but you really just want to be good for us, hmm? You’d let him have you too, he’d only have to slide his zipper down enough to get his cock out and you’d bend right over for him.” 

“I would,” Obito pants, “I would, I just- want to touch, he’s so pretty like that-”

“I know,” Minato soothes, kissing him more deeply, biting at his lip and luxuriating in the slick slide of their mouths together. Obito writhes for him, worked up and desperate, rolling against his hand like he can’t stop seeking out the friction, the pleasure overwhelming. His cheeks are a brilliant red, eyes dazed, and he kisses Minato back like he’s  _ starving _ . The other man shoves his boxers down finally, gets his hand around Obito’s dripping erection and squeezes  _ hard _ , mean and absolutely loving it, before he starts stroking at an impossible pace. “He is, he’s lovely, just like you. Kakashi would look so nice in your lap, Obito, such pretty boys together. You could make him feel good, couldn’t you? Perhaps I’ll just sit Kakashi right on your cock and tell you how to treat him nicely, see how good you are at following my orders.” 

“I- I’m trying- I can’t, ahh-” Obito chokes, following Minato’s lips and arching back against the cold wall behind him. He didn’t think staring at Kakashi’s new outfit was going to end up like this, with Minato taking him apart skillfully, leaving no part of him untouched. He can barely keep himself standing at this point, the hot-wet-tight feeling of Minatos’s hand around him. Minato grins, feral and hungry, teeth pressed to Obito’s jaw. It’s too much, too fast, too all-encompassing and it’s only getting better when Minato shifts against him to hold him up. He forgets sometimes that they’re nearly of equivalent height, because Minato’s capable of making him feel so small like this. It’s so good, though, the way his broad shoulders trap Obito here, make him  _ helpless _ for the older man. “Mina, ahhn,  _ Minato _ ,” he whimpers, head bumping back against the wall with a dull thunk. He’s going to die like this, burning up entirely and unwilling to fight it at all. 

“Are you going to come for me, Obito?” Minato purrs, sinking his teeth in deeper for a second and examining the beautiful pink that follows with smug satisfaction. “Get my hand all messy, wet enough that I can fuck you open with it and get my pleasure too? Come on, darling, let it go, show Kakashi how much you want him-” and Obito’s eyes open wide at that, staring over Minato’s shoulder, because oh- oh fuck- 

How did he not  _ notice _ that? He’s never not noticed the other man’s chakra before, never missed him, never slipped up like this- Kakashi’s standing in the hallway, staring at the two of them with the darkest eyes Obito’s ever seen. He looks positively wild, bloodthirsty and ravenous, like he could eat the two of them alive, and the unconscious way he bares his teeth at the two of them and licks his lower lip makes Obito go even weaker. 

“Show us,” Minato commands him, and he  _ does _ . He comes helplessly, arching up and fucking into Minato’s strong hand, broken moans stuttering out of his throat. It’s the praise murmured against his skin, the weight of Kakashi’s eyes on him, everything Minato has said just building up until he’s sobbing for it and overstimulated. Minato doesn’t give him mercy, rubbing across the sensitive head of his cock and watching him with utter delight as he writhes, unwilling to beg for relief because he’s just got to be  _ good _ for the older man. It feels like it takes an eternity before Minato lets him go, bracing him firmly and keeping him standing even as he wobbles like jelly. 

“Kakashi-” he mumbles weakly, unable to look away from the line of his body in that damned leather suit, like he could possibly have any explanation for the state of himself right now. 

“I called Gai,” Kakashi says, animating suddenly, stalking forward with frightening determination. “And Kushina. They’re covering our patrol. I think we have some other things to take care of tonight.” Obito swallows heavily, head spinning a little bit and body thrumming with the sweet-hot-lightning aftershocks of his orgasm. 

“Yes,” Minato agrees, licking a drop of Obito’s come off his fingers and grinning. “I think we do.” 


	4. witches + begging (kakaobirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito goes out into the forest for herbs. He finds much, much more.

Obito goes out into the woods not for himself, but for another. 

His sensei’s wife is pregnant, nearly seven months gone and round as the harvest moon, but there’s trouble with the baby. Old lady Tsunade in the village told him he could find the herbs to help her pain and ease the contractions in order to let the baby hold on a bit longer, stay growing just a few more weeks, out here. Tsunade told him there was a cottage out here, with a big old garden, and if he brought the witch something she might help him in return. But he’s here, at the cottage with the sprawling mass of herbs and flowers growing up over it, almost hiding it from view, and all he sees is a pretty young woman who looks like she’s not much older than himself. 

“Hi, little bunny,” she greets him, eyes glowing amber in the afternoon sun. “Did you get lost, hopping through the woods?” 

“Hi,” he says back, unsure of what to do. He can see the hazel and hawthorn he needs growing side by side, twining around the garden gate. It blooms yellow, spindly little threads that he can crush up and make into a tea for Kushina. She kept him safe all these years, along with Minato, and now that he’s an adult, well. Obito needs those plants. They’re the only way he can begin to repay the debt he owes the Namikazes. “Uh. No, no. I think I’m in the right place. What’s- what’s your name?”

“I guess some of them like to call me Baba Yaga, as a joke,” the woman says softly, swinging her legs back and forth, perched up on the edge of her garden wall. She smiles at him with the tender warmth of a hearth, welcoming him home. “A long, long time ago, though, they used to call me Rin. You’re here for the herbs, right?”

“Ah,” he twists his fingers together, trying not to look desperate and a little bit afraid. No one told him the witch was going to be beautiful. _Tell her the truth, Obito_ , Tsunade’s voice echoes in his mind. _Perhaps she’ll be a merciful witch, you never know_. “I need them, for, um. My sensei’s wife is pregnant, and she needs hazel and hawthorn tea to help her keep the baby safe.” 

“Why don’t you come inside?” Rin asks him, cocking her head to the side slightly and smiling with her lips pressed shut together. He gets the feeling she’s hiding something from him- teeth like needles, and a hungry mouth. “I think I know what to give you, Obito.” 

It’s only after the door to the cottage shuts behind him that he realizes he never gave her his name.

* * *

It turns out that not only is Rin beautiful, but her familiar is too, a feline and shadowed man who lounges by the fire, reading an old, dusty book. 

Obito feels rather hopeless, incapable of stopping his blush at just how enticing they both are. The sinuous way they move, the tug of her familiar’s claws on the edge of her skirt, the way their lips slot together when he pulls her down for a kiss as she passes him on his lounge. She putters around the house, mumbling, pulling herbs down and mixing things in a glass jar, ever so often puffing out a sparkling wave of magic. The familiar- Kakashi- eventually gestures for Obito to sit down beside him. 

“It’s going to take a while,” he says, and Obito believes him, so they sit and talk and Obito only falls more helplessly into his pink flush at the way the familiar drawls low and sweet, enrapturing him further. 

* * *

The jar that gets offered to Obito is worth something (worth everything, to him) and the price, as it were, must be steep. He worries, gut dropping, fingers tangling nervously yet again, from his place on the chaise. 

“You’ll have to give me something in return, you know,” she smiles, watching the way Kakashi twines his shadows through Obito’s legs, curling around his back and watching him slowly stiffen as he feels the heat of her familiar on his skin. The jar sits glowing on the kitchen table. 

“I can’t- I can pay anything you want, you know, just not- I mean, I’d really like it if I could keep the eye, since I only have one left,” Obito babbles helplessly, until she giggles, Kakashi snorting laughter in a huff against the back of his neck. 

“I just need a little magic to power the spell on that mixture,” she says, rubbing a gentle thumb across his scarred cheek. “That’s all, bunny.” And she kisses him, tipping up on her toes until she can just brush her lips against his, sweet and soft. 

“We’re not _monsters_ ,” Kakashi laughs, holding him there on the couch with sharp claws prickling at his skin. 

“Oh,” Obito says, relief washing over him. “Then you- you just need that? A kiss?” 

“Well,” she shrugs, hiking up her skirt and sliding into his lap, politely pretending not to notice the way his hands flail around until Kakashi’s slip over them, twining their fingers and pressing Obito’s palms to her waist. “A little more than a kiss, Obito.” 

“Stay still, little bunny,” Kakashi breathes against his ear, and Obito shivers, shivers, shivers until all he knows is their touch upon him. 

* * *

She and Kakashi have cruel hearts, he decides, the third time they work him up almost until he’s going to break, almost until he thinks he’ll shatter, and then let go. They’re beautiful but possibly evil, as Kakashi sits firm against his back and holds him still, as Rin, lovely and gilded by the firelight, slowly rocks atop him. Her thighs tremble slightly around his, hips rolling back and forth, sliding his aching, oversensitive erection between her slick folds and letting out little huffs of satisfied pleasure every time the head of his cock bumps against her clit. 

“Can you feel it, Obito?” she asks him, whispering against his cheekbone, kissing him gently like she isn’t driving him out of his mind. Kakashi bites at his neck with hungry teeth, stops his hips from bucking, keeps shoving spindly hands into his shirt to pinch at his nipples and draw yelps from his throat. “Can you feel the magic building?” He supposes he can, over the swelling ache and tension in his stomach, over the depth of frustration that seems to have sunk into his bones. He wants to come so badly, wants Rin to tilt her hips just slightly and let him in, wants to watch her shudder once more and arch as she comes too. At this point, he’s almost too gone to even think about the hard erection against the small of his back, the way Kakashi rubs forward just slightly every time Rin pulls back, the slightly unsteady breath hot against the nape of his neck. Obito knows that some people gather magic this way (Jiraiya comes to mind, in particular) but he never thought _he’d_ be the fulcrum of that potential. 

“Please,” he finally begs, the fourth time, the sixth time, the tenth time. “Please, please, please, I’m going to-”

“No,” Kakashi murmurs, fingers sparking and tingling as they wrap around the base of his cock. “No, you’re not, because Rin isn’t finished weaving the spell yet, bunny.” Obito sobs, his orgasm ripped away once more. He feels too hot for his body, skin too tight, and he’s overwhelmed by the dripping glide of Rin over him, never quite enough but almost too much. Rin’s fingers feel like needles dragging down his spine when she draws the sigils on his exposed collarbone with her nails, kissing along behind them and turning them bright red against his skin. 

“I can’t,” he pants weakly, twisting in Kakashi’s hands, dying over the way Kakashi holds his erection in a merciless grip and Rin just stills her hips there, rubbing the head of his cock over her clit in tight little circles, throwing her head back and whimpering for it. 

“Close, miss witch?” Kakashi asks her, and she nods, letting him use his other hand to line them up, the tip of Obito’s cock just slipping inside her tight, wet hole. 

“Oh yes,” she purrs, luxuriating in the feel of him, bending to kiss Kakashi over his shoulder even as she squeezes her cunt and Kakashi tightens his grip, all at once. Obito gasps, breath punched out of him, vision swimming, and then- she slams down on him, clenching around him all at once, and he shouts for her, for _them_ , for the swelling magic burning a hole in his lungs. 

“Come for us, bunny,” she breathes in his ear, voice thick and tight with the feeling of him splitting her apart, and he does. He comes so hard he bucks and arches in Kakashi’s hold, feels his soul slip a little loose in his chest, his eye slamming shut. He gasps and writhes and sings for them, under their hands, zinging with the sensation of lightning-magic-power-belonging running through his veins. 

“You,” Rin says tiredly, when his ears stop ringing and he’s slightly coherent again, “can come visit us any time,” and Kakashi just laughs and laughs and laughs. 


	5. demon + alley (obirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin saves a demon in the alleyway outside her shop, and gains a follower in the process.

“What do we do,” Shizune hisses, waving her hands wildly like it might gather ideas straight from the night air and implant them in her brain. “He’s bleeding so much, oh my god, _Rin_ , we have to-”

“I don’t know,” Rin says, rather hysterically, as she fumbles through her purse for her emergency spell kit. “I wasn’t expecting to find the nephew of the _King of Hell_ here either, you know-” 

“Oh, no, no, I’m okay, little witch,” the slightly-smoking demon says, waving a bloodied hand at them and blinking his red eyes slowly. He smiles up at her with the particularly dopey grin of someone who is not altogether lucid or aware of how much blood they’ve already lost. “Thanks for worrying, though, really, but I’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t think you will be,” Rin drops to her knees next to him in the alleyway, pulling out burdock, coriander, and hops. She strikes the spell-match without even looking, immediately holding it close to his most pressing wound in the center of his stomach, and watches it flare a sickly green. “That blade was poisoned.” 

“Huh,” the demon looks down at the match, back up at her, and down again. “So it was,” he says curiously, and then he promptly passes out. 

* * *

She manages to save him, as nerve wracking as it is, and Rin can honestly say she didn’t think that a green witch like her was ever going to get a personal thank you note from the King of Hell for saving his nephew Obito, but. Well. Strange things seem to happen to her wherever she goes. 

* * *

He finds her in that same alleyway, three weeks later, passing through to get to her car from the little herb shop she and Shizune run. It’s like deja-vu, seeing the unsettling glimmer of the brick walls on either side of her before he’s just standing there with a handsome grin, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Oh, uh- hi,” she stops, craning her neck back to look up at him and his glittering red eyes. “You’re not bleeding, this time.” 

“No,” he says happily, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He seems too close, all of a sudden, looming over her and strangely gleeful. “Thanks to you, of course.” 

“I’m glad,” she says, somewhat at a loss, eyes glancing between the open end of the alley and his face. “You’re… feeling better?” 

“Much,” he confirms, leaning in slightly closer. His eyes are truly mesmerizing, a swirling mass of black and red that drags her in like an endless whirlpool, Scylla and Charybdis, the bottom of the ocean there beneath them. “Actually, I wanted to thank you for your help.” 

“Oh,” she blusters, cheeks turning pink at the attention, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “You really don’t have to, I promise. Your uncle already sent me a letter, and it really wasn’t trouble, I’m glad I could do something. I don’t like to let people go hurt, you know?” 

“Of course,” he smiles, the edge of a sharp canine just visible in the dim light of the alley. “And I don’t like to let good deeds go without reward. So what is it that you desire, little witch? What can I offer you in return for the gift of my life?”

“I’m just happy you’re okay,” Rin says, trying her best to convey that it’s true, that’s all she wanted. She doesn’t need favors from the Prince of Hell. Tsunade would kill her for accepting anything, even a small boon. “Really, I don’t need anything, I promise. I’m not even sure what I’d ask you for.” 

“Oh, I can do lots of things,” he drawls, bending close enough that she can feel his breath. It’s cinnamon, a little bit of smoke, the faint edge of tobacco and the spice of his magic. Witches and demons go good together, the old books said. No wonder his magic smells like that to her, utterly intoxicating, igniting a deep hunger down in her belly. “If you wanted money, for instance, or a little more power. I could give you more magic, if you wanted it. I could make your cute little shop more powerful, or find you a strong familiar, or make you taller, even.” He grins lasciviously, the end of his nose brushing against hers, her eyes nearly crossing to keep him in sight. “I could even make you come, if you wanted me to.” 

“W-what?” she stutters, hands instinctively coming up against his chest to press a bare bit of space between them. It’s not like he’s not utterly, completely handsome with his rakish smile and his sweet, floppy hair. It’s not like his magic isn’t fairly _calling out_ to hers, dragging along her aura like an affectionate cat. It’s not even that she isn’t considering it, in the back of her mind- but they’re in an alleyway, and they really only met once before this, and Rin isn’t in the habit of taking things like that out of _obligation_. “Are you kidding? That’s not a very funny joke-”

“Obito,” he supplies, laughing not-unkindly and letting his hands settle around her waist. “And it’s not a joke, little witch. I can tell it’s been a long time since someone got you off the way they should, and I can _also_ tell that you’re attracted to me. I think you’re pretty, little thing. It’s not like it would be a hardship to kiss you.” 

“That’s, well, that’s- you know, a little more than just _kissing_ ,” she says, flustered and scrambling even as her fingers tangle tighter in the front of his leather jacket. His eyes swirl with amusement, speeding up briefly even as he stifles another laugh at her expense. “Also, how would you… how do you even know that, huh?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Obito shrugs, thumbs rubbing warm circles just up under the hem of her shirt, across the faintly ticklish skin of her stomach. “I could give you anything with just a kiss. It’s a perk of the job,” he winks, stepping smoothly backwards and bringing her against his chest as he leans against the alley wall. “As for how I know, well. It’s not difficult for me to tell those things. Your magic is… pent up, sweet thing.” His palm sweeps across her lower back, fingers walking slowly up her spine, and she shivers into him, unable to look away from his smiling face. His voice, low and faintly gravelly, drags right along her nerves in the same delicious rasp that his aura does. 

“Frustrated and stuck and under-loved,” he croons, pressing fingertips into each tender place as he reaches her neck, tugging gently at the ends of her hair and relishing in her little wriggle at the feeling that zings straight through her to her lower belly. “Nobody’s been treating my little witch the way she deserves.” 

“I guess it has been… a while,” she mutters, shuddering slightly and looking away. The ends of the alleyway are a little shimmery, the glimmer of his glamour overtaking them. She knows that no one can see them like this, even with the growing dusk still just enough to light her previous path. Is she really considering this? Is she seriously thinking about letting a Prince of _Hell_ get her off in the alleyway between her shop and her parking spot? It’s been months since her last date, and the guy she went out with had barely gotten her warmed up, let alone gotten her off. His kisses were sloppy and far too cold. The guy before that hadn’t been any better. It’s a little laughable, really, that those guys weren’t even concerned with whether or not she’d come, and Obito, who’s leagues above her in pretty much every dimension, is so insistent about it. 

“If you don’t like it,” he tilts his head to the side, eyes suddenly very serious and earnest, “then of course I’ll let you go. You don’t have to do anything, Rin. I could give you an I.O.U and let you sleep on it.” His hands are a question on her skin, a wondering and wandering little touch, as she thinks about it. Really, what has she got to lose?

“A kiss,” she says slowly, fisting her hands in his jacket fully like it will ground her in this strange, strange liminal space. “A kiss would be nice.” He grins like she’s handed him the world, pulling her tighter against his front and bending down to brush his nose along her jaw, breath spilling sweet into her lungs, before he straightens a little and looks her in the eye. 

“Just relax, okay?” he murmurs, all coaxing-sweet and syrupy, before he blinks and his eyes kaleidoscope out, dragging her in-in-in-in. His lips are firm against hers, tenderly pressing in and then opening, persuading her mouth open so that his teeth can catch on her lower lip. He bites, tugs, sucks until she’s certain that it’s purple and swollen and she’s panting against his mouth. It is one hell of a kiss, even though she knows that’s not all it is. She can feel his magic grab ahold of hers, directly through those greedy Sharingan eyes, twisting and wrestling playfully. “Good?” he asks her, nudging his nose against hers and blinking slowly, waiting for her response.

“Yeah,” she breathes, listing forward a little, back towards his wonderful mouth, and he kisses her again, still grinning. His hand is strong on her waist, holding her steady, as his thigh slips between hers and slots her up against that firm muscle. 

“Pretty, pretty little witch,” he whispers, dragging his teeth across her lip, kissing her deep enough that it feels like he’s swallowing her magic whole. Impossibly, it seems, she really does feel the tangling tightness of arousal working up in her stomach, just from the way his mouth feels against hers. It’s not just from the kiss, though- every stroke of his magic against hers sends her higher, squeezing her from the inside out. The slow slide of his tongue sends a jolt directly down her spine to her clit, and she’s abruptly aware of how utterly wet she is. It’s a little sloppy, hot and bent around the desperate breaths she keeps sucking in, but he seems perfectly enamored with it all the same. Obito just keeps building her up, higher and higher, content to kiss her senseless and contain her twisting hips with strong hands, until she yanks on his jacket and whimpers, as close to the precipice as she’s ever been. She’s really going to come like this, from his kiss and his magic and his literally demonic aura all around her. 

“Oh, _let me have it_ ,” he coaxes, flexing his leg against her and kissing her deeply, and- she does. “Just like that, sweet thing, _exactly_ like that.” She shudders through an orgasm powerful enough to leave her vision spotty, unable to breathe for a long moment, panting and writhing and feeling acutely the emptiness between her thighs. It’s glorious, leaving her wrung out and shivering, oversensitive to even the gentle brush of his lips along her cheekbone. “Much better, hmm?” he hums, petting her lower back with simple, tender attention. “Your magic’s not quite so knotted up and stagnant any more.” 

“Y-yeah,” she manages to say, after a moment. _It’s true_ , she wonders at the new feeling flooding through her body. _Holy shit_. She hadn’t even realized how pent-up everything was in her pathways, but somehow his magic has managed to massage it all out of her. She’s flowing more freely, more powerfully, than she has in months. Obito grins at her, all pleased and lazy cat. 

“It wasn’t much of a job for me,” he says, brushing her hair back from her face and curling a fond hand around the back of her neck. “Hardly a pittance, compared to the debt I owe you. Maybe I’ll just have to do it again, if it worked that well. We can’t have you struggling with your own magic the next time you come across a poor creature in need of your tender mercies, after all.” 

_Oh god_ , Rin thinks dizzily. _I think I’ve got myself a demon boyfriend._

And yet- and yet. 

She agrees. 


	6. scarecrow + begging (kakayama)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi missteps- Yamato puts him in his place. 
> 
> feat. misuse of mokuton, spanking, and punishment

They call him the scarecrow, but it’s not exactly correct. Not that mortals often are correct about his kind, though they’ve certainly been around him long enough that one might think they’d learn. 

What he  _ is _ is  _ hungry _ , roaming the edges of the fields during the day to earn his keep by safeguarding the winter stores and returning to his master at night. He doesn’t eat the crows or the birds or the little vermin scuttling about. Those, he scares. No, he feeds on something deeper, the approval of his master and the energy he feeds into Kakashi’s wooden bones. Even now, strung up and struggling to focus on Yamato’s face, he’s growing stronger. Every little touch, every caress of Yamato’s vines strengthens him, gives him life. It’s exhilarating as it is terrifying, because Yamato is displeased and Kakashi  _ aches _ to make it better. He needs Yamato’s touch to survive, even when Yamato looks at him with such stern eyes and binds him so tightly in ivy. 

“Why can’t you just be good for me,” Yamato sighs, gripping the edge of Kakashi’s jaw and tilting his head from side to side, inspecting him with steel-coolness. Kakashi just shivers, unable to look away, unwilling to pull back. “You know you’re not supposed to touch those seals, Kakashi.” 

“Yes,” he says, shamefaced and contrite, opening his mouth around the tip of Yamato’s thumb and sucking it in. His chest feels tight, his hips shifting restlessly in the vines, very aware of how bare and naked he is in this moment. He does know, he knows, he knows very well. “I just wanted to help,” he says around his mouthful, furrowing his brow, those puppy-dog eyes he knows work so well. Yamato sighs again, pinching his nipple like an afterthought and watching him twist dispassionately. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you to help,” he says, oddly gently, as he takes his thumb from Kakashi’s mouth and steps back. “The rules are for your protection, little scarecrow. Those seals are unstable, and something like you could get all burned up in them.” His vines twine further, tangling around Kakashi’s legs and spreading them, curling around his cock tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi says, practically pleads, arching into the torturous feeling, face blooming red, but Yamato only takes another step back. “I’ll be more careful, next time.” He will be, he will be. He’s a tool and a provenance, Yamato’s soldier protecting the interests of the village that his kami calls his own. Yamato trails rough fingertips along the length of his bared torso, skimming the line of his cock, and kisses his knuckles with a finality. 

“Think about it, Kakashi,” he murmurs tenderly. “Remember how important you are to me.” 

Yamato leaves him there to ponder, sitting at his desk a mere ten feet away. He’s tied to the wall by a mass of moving vines that tease at him in every conceivable way until he’s writhing and out of his mind. It’s torturous, thin and tender vines brushing across his nipples, thicker summer leaves wrapping around his cock. His arms grow sore in one position, but the vines move to accommodate him, never letting him get away. Some of them stroke ticklishly along his throat, twining around his neck in a parody of a collar that makes his vision spin dizzily, overcome by the sensation. When he flexes his fingers, the vines reach out to him, tangling with his hands so that he has something to clutch onto. The weight of his exposure, the feeling of them on his skin- it leaves him hard and shaking, dripping onto the floor and completely flushed. He can’t even reach the ground with his toes, not that it makes a difference with the plants supporting him. 

“Please,” he gasps, when he can’t take it anymore, certain that he’ll lose his mind there in the dim light of Yamato’s office. Yamato looks up, leaning back in his chair, twirling his pen so nonchalantly. He comes to Kakashi silently, still peering at him with those massive eyes stern and full of censure but softening with affection and love for his scarecrow, his soldier. 

“Can you take your punishment, for me?” Yamato asks him, murmuring and sweet along the edge of his jaw, a kiss laid carefully on his desperate mouth. “Are you alright like this, Kashi?” 

“Yes,” he begs, pleads for something else, and then the breath is gone from his lungs when Yamato reaches out and smacks his inner thigh hard enough to leave a pink mark. He gasps through it, through the vines turning and twisting him until Yamato can strike him across the ass and watch the skin warm under his hand. “Yes, yes,  _ yes _ ,” he sobs, because it feels too good, too perfect to feel the shivering, hot sting of Yamato’s hand and the sweet tug of his vines and the weight of his eyes. Yamato spanks him hard enough that it sends shockwaves through his belly, a burning ball of heat, and his cock twitches helplessly, splattering precome across the wall. The vines just swipe it up, twirl around his erection and slick-slide tighten there. A thin tendril dips into the slit of his cock, teasing the sensitive nerve endings there, and Kakashi feels like he’s going to cry but he’s so  _ alive _ . 

“You  _ are _ good for me,” Yamato soothes him, kissing along his shoulder, up the curve of his neck, and Kakashi just lets his head loll back against his master with a sigh. “One more, okay?” The vines spread his legs wide, exposing the pink mark on his right leg, and then Yamato aims and matches it on the other side until he’s stinging and burning and oh, fuck, he’s going to feel it every time he so much as takes a  _ step _ tomorrow. It’s too much, building up behind his eyes and in his gut, and he shudders, cock jerking and stomach clenching as he comes untouched all across his abdomen and Yamato’s gentling hand, curling around him and rubbing him softly. 

“I’ll be so good for you,” he slurs, pressing his reverent, sloppy mouth against Yamato’s cheek, and Yamato just smiles. 

“I know,” he says. “I know.” 


	7. candy apple + mouth (mikoto x kushina)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kushina is enamored of Mikoto's beautiful mouth. Mikoto generously lets her have a taste. 
> 
> feat: polyamory/open marriages, lipstick

It’s somewhat obscene, really, to expect her to be paying attention to any part of the autumn festivities not related to the way Mikoto’s mouth fits slick and glossy around her bite of candy apple. She hardly ever wears lipstick, even more rarely for fun. In fact, it’s probably possible to count the number of times Kushina’s seen her girlfriend’s mouth painted red while they’ve both been in the village. That might be why she’s so utterly shaken by it: she’s had no time to become inured to the curve of Mikoto’s lips, the way the light reflects off them, the fact that she’s suddenly desperate to know what they taste like. Minato stifles a laugh next to her, nudging her gently with his elbow. 

“You’re drooling,” he says, rather gleefully, and she elbows him back hard enough to knock the wind out of him. 

So what if she is? Her girlfriend is positively _edible_ right now. 

* * *

It’s driving Kushina mad, mad enough that when they retreat home for the evening, she just drags Mikoto out into the gardens and slams the shoji screen shut behind them to the knowing laughter of both of their husbands. Mikoto simply smirks, satisfied and smug, and lets her. 

* * *

She arches back, lets her yukata fall further from her shoulders, and oh- the sweet press of Mikoto’s candy-red mouth around her nipple is exquisite, sharp and shocking and delightfully hot. There are smears of lipstick there, a perfect print of crimson that sends even more heat to her stomach, when Mikoto pulls back to admire her handiwork. 

“Pretty fox,” Mikoto whispers, almost too low to be heard, as she thumbs over Kushina’s slick nipple and pinches at it, drawing it out until Kushina is squirming and whimpering beneath her hands. She grins, as vulpine as Kurama himself in the still-warm night air, her other hand dragging up the hem of Kushina’s yukata and slipping into her underwear. Mikoto has her laid out on the porch under the stars, the crickets chirping merrily in the garden. They can see the candles still lit through the shoji screen across the courtyard, hear the low murmur of Minato and Fugaku talking over a game of shogi (although who knows how much longer they’ll still be _talking_.) 

“Mikoto,” Kushina begs, spreading her legs wide and letting her girlfriend cup the back of her leg and press her knees wide open until Mikoto can kneel easily between them. She bites a trail down Kushina’s trembling stomach, letting her girlfriend tug helplessly at her sleek black hair, all undone from its previous braids. The lipstick looks like rose petals, cherry blossoms, candied apples smeared all down her abdomen. By the time Mikoto smiles up at her, framed by her moon-gold thighs, breath fluttering over her slick folds, it’s nearly all worn off and Kushina is losing her _mind_. 

“Please,” she says shakily, trying to spread her thighs even wider under Mikoto’s hands, feeling the bite of her girlfriend’s nails into her skin and imagining the sweet crescent moons she’ll find there in the morning. It’s not especially often that Mikoto gets in a mood like this, teasing her, playing with her with every bit of her clan’s crow-like intelligence glinting in her black eyes. But tonight, she’s feeling the pull of the moon, and she bends her head to bite a mark into Kushina’s inner thigh that promises to last several days. Kushina squirms, choking off a broken, desperate moan and pressing her ass down against the wood so she doesn’t buck up too hard against Mikoto and _break_ something. Mikoto’s strong hand, her kunai-rough calluses, presses against Kushina’s lower belly and pushes deep, delicious pressure as she noses up against Kushina’s riotous red curls, her tongue parting slick folds with deadly accuracy. 

“Oh, oh fuck,” Kushina whimpers, all the fire in her stomach flaring up as Mikoto licks over her clit, grins pretty pressed up against her and slips her other fingers down to tease against her entrance. Kushina loves the way her girlfriend’s mission-tough hands feel against her scarred skin, the rub and tug of their rough spots together, the clever thickness of fingers slipping in to curl _up_ and make her plead for mercy. Mikoto just sucks at her clit, kisses it gently, pursing her lips and laving attention over it until Kushina starts to rock into her fingers and _demand_ more. The autumn moon watches them with blushing cheeks, her cry of surprise echoing around the courtyard when Mikoto draws her mouth again and bites a matching purple blossom into the other length of her inner thigh. 

“I didn’t think you’d be so desperate for lipstick,” Mikoto says, voice rough and low, scraping across Kushina’s nerves deliciously. “It’s so _basic_ , Kushi, it’s nothing special.” 

“It _is_ ,” Kushina insists, voice high and unsteady, rolling her hips and luxuriating in the way Mikoto’s fingers fill her up, pressing against that spot that makes her feel wild, a knot forming in her stomach between the tips of Mikoto’s fingers and the pressure of her palm still on Kushina’s pelvis. “You’re so pretty, _so_ pretty, so lovely,” she babbles, caught up in the way Mikoto’s rouge-smudged lips look, slick with her and matching the flush in her cheeks. Her normally smooth hair’s a little mussed from Kushina’s hands, leaning over her legs and brushing against her knees. “Ugh, your mouth-” 

“You want it back?” Mikoto asks, teasing her, curling her fingers and stroking long and deep, her thumb catching the edge of Kushina’s clit and rubbing circles. Kushina just nods helplessly, and Mikoto dives back down to suck at her clit and drive her out of her body entirely. She shakes, coming apart in a rush of fire that rolls through her not unlike an infusion of bijuu chakra, cleansing her thoroughly, wringing her out. It’s hard to breathe- even harder when Mikoto sucks harder, presses her tongue so cruel and firm, keeps her three fingers crooked and rubs across Kushina’s g-spot without stopping. For a minute, Kushina wonders if she’s going to pass out, spotty vision and ears ringing from the force of her muscles trying their best to derive as much pleasure as they can from her girlfriend’s ministrations. 

“Oh, oh, oh, please, I can’t-” she whimpers brokenly, and Mikoto hums, trapping her hips there with a firm hand and pulling until Kushina’s body gives up one last gushing wave of slick and tears form in her eyes. 

“There,” Mikoto purrs, rubbing a soothing hand over Kushina’s trembling stomach and licking gently up the crease of her damp thigh until she can press a wet kiss just below her girlfriend’s navel. “Oh, pretty fox, you are so lovely when you let me have you like this.” 

Kushina twines her shaking fingers tenderly in Mikoto’s mussed hair, cupping the side of her cheek, and thinks about how lucky she is to have this.


	8. werewolves + outdoors (kakaobirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin goes running in the woods with her wolves.
> 
> feat: size kink, knotting, vague breeding kink

It’s not really a surprise that Kakashi and Obito end up fucking every full moon. Every month, like clockwork, the two of them go out into the woods with the rest of the pack. Every month, like clockwork, they come back with sticks stuck in their hair and giddy grins and purple bites all over their shoulders, sex-loose and sloppy as they sprawl all over her bed. 

Every month, she pretends she isn’t a little bit hurt they never ask her to join them, even though… it’s not like she’s, well. Jealous, or anything. She’s not a werewolf, not even a shifter, and maybe it’s just a shifter thing that she doesn’t know about. They don’t really exclude her from anything else, either, so. They’re allowed to have their thing, their just-Kakashi-and-Obito-thing, and she’s allowed to be just a teensy, tiny bit envious that she doesn’t know anything about it, hasn’t seen any part of it but the admittedly very nice looking aftermath. They still kiss her when they come home, still bowl her over and slide her pants off and get their mouths up on her and their tongues still say prayers to _her_ , at the end of the night. 

Until one month Obito asks her if she’d like to _join_. 

“I’m not a shifter,” she says hesitantly, twisting her fingers around her moonstone wand, heart fluttering with a little uncertainty. “I mean, if it would be okay-”

“True,” Obito nuzzles her jaw, sweeping her up in his arms and twirling her around until she’s giggling uncontrollably. “But you’re our Ri-in,” he sing-songs, kissing all over her cheeks and adoring the strawberry blush, the sweet freckles there. “Besides,” he murmurs, “Don’t you wanna see what Kakashi looks like when I get him all worked up under the moon?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, kissing him softly and tucking her hand into his hair, holding on tightly as she pours her love out into his chest. “I’d like that.” 

* * *

It is, in fact, glorious to see. She knows she’ll never be able to give it up, now that she’s got it- the image of Kakashi laid out silver and laughing in the grass under the harvest moon. There are flowers in her hair, Russian sage and chrysanthemums woven into between the strands, and she can smell the night around them, the rising scent of rain on the horizon. Obito nearly cackles, howling low and rough and bowling Kakashi into the ground, crushing daisies beneath their tumbling bodies. She can hear the pack around them in various parts of the woods, retreating to their chosen dens for the night to fool around in smaller groups, and it makes her feel _wildly_ alive. Obito growls playfully at her from his position sitting on Kakashi’s legs, fingers scraping pink cherry lines down his chest, and she bares her teeth and growls back. Kakashi looks _delighted_ by it, waving her closer to them, grinning wild and free. 

“Hi,” he says, all starstruck adoration, tongue peeking between his moon-sharp teeth as she slides to her bare knees on the ground next to them, rubbing a thumb over his sweet dimple. 

“You’re so _pretty_ in the moonlight,” Obito murmurs, leaning over to kiss her neck and gather her closer to them, nipping at her and helping Kakashi pull her to straddle his chest as well. She’s still wearing a pair of loose shorts and an old tee shirt, unwilling to run _entirely_ naked while the rest of them were in their shifted forms. Their hands slip under the hems of her clothing, scratching gently as they carefully maneuver what are closer to claws than fingernails, tonight. Rin knows, intellectually, that most shifters feel an increase in libido during the full moon along with their near-inescapable desire to shift. 

To witness it in person is something else. 

Obito bites at her with teeth barely restrained, leaving little flooded-plum marks all along her shoulders, his hands cupping her breasts and pulling her back against him even as Kakashi hooks his fingers around the backs of her knees and pulls her pelvis forward. They’re skin-hungry, rumbling growls, pressing up along her like they simply _can’t_ get enough. Kakashi nips at her fingertips, sucking the length of her index and middle fingers and watching her with eyes driven close to the edge of incoherency, even as he rubs a thumb along the crease of her ass and thigh and tangles himself up even further in her. Her boys are always physically affectionate, but rarely does she feel like they might genuinely _eat her alive_. Obito runs his hand along her hips, fingers curling around the peach-curve beneath her navel. He practically purrs, his teeth finding purchase along her collarbone as he leaves a slow, sucking kiss there that promises to bruise spectacularly. Kakashi’s fingers slip carefully along the curve of her ass, down further in between slick folds, and he presses a long finger into her ever-so-slowly until she’s arching into it, needing him to hurry. 

“You’re gonna look so good on his knot,” Obito murmurs, voice low and rasping with arousal like he’s _choking_ on it. He presses his palm more firmly against her navel, reveling in the fact that his hand is large enough to nearly span her soft stomach. Kakashi growls at that, sliding another finger in and curling them, eating up every one of her reactions, the way she squirms on his fingers and squeezes her thighs around him. “Would look so good, full up with our pups, little thing-” and Rin moans, high and shocked out of her at the sudden yanking, tugging tangle of heat under Obito’s hand. 

“He’s right,” Kakashi agrees, rubbing his thumb over her clit and riding out the startled buck of her hips. “Even letting us have you here, under the moon-”

“You’re _perfect_ ,” Obito groans helplessly, even as Rin moans and lets her head fall back against his shoulder, undone by the twisting of Kakashi’s fingers inside her. “Pretty little wolf,” he bites her collarbone again, gets his hand on her stomach lower until he’s pushing right in on the wave of tension building there for Kakashi’s fingers and Rin is panting, the night air thick in her lungs. They’re always good to her, making her come before they try and fit inside her because god _knows_ they’re bigger than she is. And she’s not a wolf, she isn’t, as much as they call her one, but _fuck_ if she’s not hot for the way they want to knot her like she’s part of their pack the same as all the other shifters. Obito gets his other hand between them and then there’s four fingers deep in her and she feels more full than she’s ever felt before, crying out sharp, bells ringing in the clearing and her knees clamping down on Kakashi’s waist. 

“Fuck, _Obito_ ,” Kakashi scolds him, holding her still with his free hand and glaring at their boyfriend with reproachful eyes. “Be gentle, you fucking _oaf-_ ”

“No, no no no, don’t stop” she babbles when Obito tries to pull back, squirming in Kakashi’s grip and rocking her hips forward, further down on their hands and nearly sobbing with how good it feels. “It’s good, it’s- come on,” she whines, eyes clenched shut and fingernails scrabbling at their skin. “I’m so _close_.” 

The stars watch her fall apart in their arms, grass stains on her knees and bruises around her throat like a necklace of amethyst, garnet, obsidian. Kakashi, patient enough even moon-drunk and wanting, sits her on his cock so slowly she almost screams, barely controlled enough not to plead for him to just _fuck her already_ . Obito’s hands are his love-song to her, rubbing up and down her ribs in the same manner he gets his mouth all over her, wherever he can touch, while Kakashi fucks her slow and deep and she watches the constellations spin glorious above them. When Obito tilts her hips back, Kakashi’s cock rubs against the tender spot inside her and she writhes for it, startled whimpers tumbling from her chest without her permission. It feels like he’s so deep inside her he’s never going to leave, and the shivery-hot-lightning of it overwhelms her until she can hardly speak. One of the best things about Obito is that he’ll never let her fall, and so she lets him hold her up when a calculated thrust up sends her tumbling over the edge, her orgasm setting her on _fire_. She shakes and shakes and shakes, and relishes in the fact that Kakashi can’t hold back his own moans at the feeling of her tightening around him, the smug grumble of Obito’s purring growl up against her back, the way his lips are so sweet on her cheeks. 

“Get her full, baby,” Obito tells him, and with a broken gasp, Kakashi obeys, his knot swelling and his hips jerking up against the shuddering aftershocks of her orgasm as he trembles through his own. She shifts on his cock, her back arching like a particularly pleased cat, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of Obito’s skull and letting her arms rest there around his neck like a collar. Obito had been entirely right- Kakashi does look perfect, worked up under the moon and flushed lovely ruby pink. He gives them a minute or two, the bare minimum of time before his hands start getting restless again, his cock still hard against her back. It’s the mischievous little smirk he gets right before he does something like this that always makes her laugh- like she doesn’t know he’s about to be a brat. 

And he is- he slides his fingers down her stomach, rubbing a slick circle around her swollen clit and laughing into her hair when she jolts against the near-overstimulation, clenching down on Kakashi’s knot, creating a chain reaction that ends in Kakashi whining high in the back of his throat. 

“ _Obito_ ,” their boyfriend hisses, his hips rolling up helplessly, unable to really go anywhere but overwhelmed by the sensation of her squeezing around him. It doesn’t do much to dissuade him, though, because he keeps rubbing at her, working her up higher and higher until she’s dripping down the base of Kakashi’s cock, squirming and writhing and bucking down to get him deeper-deeper-deeper, soaking up the incoherent moans Kakashi makes every time she ripples around him. It’s too much but it’s not enough, just close, just on that edge. Kakashi can’t come any more than he already has, but Obito is determined to prove that _she_ can, pinching her nipples with his free hand and encouraging her low and filthy up against the curve of her neck, fangs clinking against her dangling moonstone earring. 

When she comes a second time, it wrenches the soul right out of her, feeling the way Obito ruts his cock against her lower back and his unsteady breath, the dizzy swimming of her vision as her whole body shakes and shakes and shakes. Kakashi looks like he’s seen another dimension, his knot nearly sore and completely overworked, swollen and milked for all it’s worth.

“Oh, I knew you would be lovely out here,” Obito purrs, as satisfied as can be, and when Rin can catch her breath again, she has to agree. 


	9. reaper + blindfold (kakaobi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi makes a deal with The Reaper to get their precious people back. 
> 
> Feat: paranormal voyeurism, blindfolds, a little angst

_If you want them back_ , the Reaper says, his voice a thousand skittering autumn leaves scraping across the stone of old abandoned abbeys, a shadow creeping in the dark, a hungry thing waiting to devour Kakashi whole. _Make me a deal, little wolf. Show me the darkest parts of yourself. Let me feel happiness once more. Where are you tender, little wolf? Where are you sore and wanting? It’s been so, so long since I felt anything at all._

He tries his best. 

It’s hard to be this vulnerable, letting Obito tie a scarf around his eyes and run hands over his body like this, but he’d rather be blind than watch the eyes of the shinigami trailing so hungry, so starving, over his flesh. Obito can’t see the Reaper. That was part of the deal, because Kakashi can’t explain to his boyfriend the price he’s paying with his body for their precious people. It’s been a long, long time since the Reaper felt the touch of another being, and he’s as desperate for peace as Kakashi is, in the end.

Obito kisses him as gently as ever- which is to say, not very- bites his lip raw and bends him in half, gets his hands all over Kakashi’s scars and makes them beautiful again. It’s painful to feel how much Obito loves him, in this moment. As painful as it is wonderful, because Kakashi can’t help but gasp, arching into his mouth when he fits his lips around the head of his cock and sucks deeply, humming smug and pleased at Kakashi’s helpless sounds. 

The fact that he can’t see is more than enough to get his heart racing. The way Obito uses it to tease him is even worse, squirming and never knowing where his fingers will land next. His teeth, his tongue, his mouth, his legs spreading Kakashi wide and pinning him down to the bed. Kakashi’s own moans, panting breaths, sound too loud in his ears, echoing around their room as desperate as he feels. When he rubs a slick finger across Kakashi’s hole and presses in slowly, the Reaper hisses in unison with Kakashi, pleased and hungering for more. Kakashi squeezes his eyes shut, rocks into the touch, tries to open himself more and more and hopes that it will be enough. 

He feels like he’s on fire. 

Every time Obito fucks into him like this, that first push splitting him open, Kakashi cries out for him as desperate and sweet as can be. He promised himself years ago ( _when Obito came back, shivering and scarred and bloodstained in the summer rain, begging Kakashi to tell him where Sensei and Kushina were_ -) that he wouldn’t hide that, that deep and gutting reaction, from his lover. He tells Obito with his fingers turning the other man’s shoulders pale, with his lips desperate and reverent on the smooth arch of skin just under the place Obito’s eye used to be, under his greatest gift- he tells him he loves him with his body and apologizes for everything he couldn’t do. 

_I’ll make it right,_ he whispers, taps out across Obito’s forearms and holds on for dear life when the other man starts moving inside him, striking flint and sparks all up his nerves. He feels so exposed, unable to see, that he has to drag Obito closer and pull him over his chest, on top enough that Kakashi is shielded from the eyes he cannot escape. 

He loves the way Obito feels inside him, a driving force he can’t help but adore, a tidal wave pushing and pulling at him until he’s rocking back and scratching his fingernails on tan skin, trying to get him in just the right spot. It’s too much, not enough, he’s drowning on it and Obito’s breathless love poems, starstruck affection kissing down his throat overwhelming him. Sometimes it hurts that Obito loves him this much, far more than he deserves. But it feels too good to give up, and besides- Kakashi could never bring himself to hurt Obito again, to take from him, to leave him lonely among the trees.

When Obito makes him come, fucking deep in and pushing Kakashi’s legs up until his knees hook over the other man’s shoulders- when Kakashi arches his back and begs wordlessly, moaning and stuttering-broken-breaths, the Reaper trails his long fingernails along Kakashi’s spine and sucks the pleasure right out of him, luxuriating in his warmth. The blindfold chafes on his eyes, stinging a little bit, darkness that he cannot escape even as he twists and near-panics in that shadowed space, anchored only by Obito’s hands. 

_Oh_ , he purrs, pleased as can be, even as Kakashi shivers with the sudden cold. Obito kisses him softly, unknowingly, rolling his hips lazily a few last times to drag out the sensation just a little bit longer. _Oh, little wolf, I feel **alive**. _

When Minato and Kushina stumble back to life, shaking and wobbly, newborn deer on their feet, Kakashi can’t quite look them in the eye for a moment, certain they know what he’s done. But their arms around him, Obito’s joyful laughter, the incredulous disbelief on Rin’s face- it’s worth it. 

It’s worth it, for them. 


	10. succubus + suits (minakushi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kushina's been trying to get Minato to notice her for a long time, and she's getting veeeery hungry. 
> 
> Feat: cunnilingus, sweet sunshine Minato, Kushina in love, Kurama as a succubus spirit

“Well, how do I look?” She straightens the tie, smooths her hand across the wine-red fabric draping silkily over her chest, down the line of her high-waisted pants. Kurama grins back at her from the mirror, eyes glinting hungry, a summer storm hungering for the shore. It’s been too long since they fed on anything at all, and he’s getting restless. 

“Look, kid,” the fox drawls, picking at his teeth with one long, dangerous claw. “If he doesn’t get it after tonight, I’m thinkin’ we should go looking for a smarter meal.” 

“Hey! First of all, he’s not just a- a _meal_ to me,” Kushina protests, yanking at the chains surrounding the bijuu. She’s certainly not going to just eat him up and leave. Not if she can help it, at least. Not if he’ll let her stick around. He won’t be discarded like the others she’s fucked, partners that knew what they were there for and had no complaints about a one night stand. “And second of all, he’s a certifiable genius, okay, just not, you know- about _this_.” 

“No, certainly not about this,” Kurama agrees, laughter echoing around the inside of her chest as she pulls on her heels. It is, unfortunately, true that Minato’s failed to catch most of her hints lately- Tsunade and Jiraiya even laughed at her last time they saw the way he let a blatant innuendo slide past him without so much as blinking. ( _That boy’s eternal chastity was a rebuke from the gods directly to you_ , Tsunade told Jiraiya as Minato walked away smiling placid and unaware, despite Kushina’s obvious offer to suck him off in the ANBU locker room.) It’s as infuriating as it is motivating, because Minato is so, so pretty, and Kushina is certain he’s going to taste _divine_. 

* * *

He doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t. 

It’s obvious that Minato just can’t seem to comprehend the innuendos she’s slinging, here, and so after a drink and two hours of flirting with this impossible, beautiful, oblivious boy, she just grabs his cheeks and says, “If you don’t want this, please say so,” and kisses him absolutely senseless. The din of the holiday party around them rages on, a cottony soft whirl of white noise that envelops her as she drinks directly from his mouth. 

“Oh,” he says, his hands curling around her waist just like they’re meant to be, his lips a perfectly lovely rose and his nose brushing against hers. “No, I _very_ much do, I do want this.” 

“You taste so good,” she presses further against him and tangles her hands in his beautiful hair, golden silk and high July sun. “Gonna look so pretty in my bed, _Mi-na-to-_ ” she purrs, pleased as can be, and he clutches at her suit jacket like his knees have suddenly decided to stop working, swaying a little in her arms. He’s so _sweet_.

* * *

He tastes like candy, sugary enough that Kurama grumbles and rumbles happily through her chest when she topples him down on her bed and they both get to see him sprawled, half naked, on her sheets. It’s practically dessert- she’d managed to coax his shirt off, and his pants are unbuttoned just enough that the bulge of his erection peeks through the zipper, a little wet spot on his boxers. She’s still wearing her suit, though. It makes something deep between her ribs so satisfied when she trails a hand up his thigh and he shivers, reaching out to curl polite hands around the end of her tie and drag her on top of him. 

“It looks so good on you,” Minato murmurs, fingers fiddling with the pearl button of her suit pants, cheeks flushing red when she grinds down against him. 

“Thanks,” she says, feeling the rush of power flooding through her as their skin collides, his hand on her lower stomach up under her shirt and Kurama’s tongue lolling out happily, finally feeding after all this time. Minato feels absolutely like sunshine in her veins. Even his lust for her is pure, somehow, unfettered and untainted and exactly what she’s been craving. He kisses her like they could be in love, like no one ever has before- everyone assumes that she wants things quick and dirty, no strings attached, for sustenance alone. It works well enough, but it’s kind of empty, and Kushina realizes in this moment exactly how _badly_ she’s been wanting Minato all this time. It’s easy, they think, to get Kushina to fuck them for her meals and then they never have to worry about it again. A convenience at best; an exploitable resource at worst. 

Minato doesn’t seem to see it that way. 

He’s reverent, soft, his hands trailing tenderly up her sides, asking for permission before he unbuttons her shirt and helps her out of it. The way he rubs his thumb along the silk of her tie makes her wonder, for a dizzying second, what it would be like to wrap it around his wrists and tie him to her headboard. She could ride him like that for hours, feasting slowly, greedily on his energy and sucking down his chakra like lemon ice on a late August day. He would look so pretty, begging her for mercy, eager to give her everything and as red as she could possibly get him. But tonight they haven’t talked about that, and that would be taking more than he’s explicitly offering, so she tosses the tie to the side and bends down to kiss him until he’s whimpering against her mouth and rocking up against her in helpless little waves. 

“Hiya, sunshine,” she whispers, when he’s gotten her shirt unbuttoned all the way and his fingers are trailing little patterns across her lower back. “You wanna get my bra off?” 

“ _ **Yes**_ ,” he says, almost too quick, pretty eyes going wide again and glancing down at the lace like it’s a trick, or something. She manages not to laugh at him, the careful way he unhooks her bra and helps her slide her shirt off, then the straps. He tugs them down her arms, clever finger looped around them, and pushes up on his elbows so that he can kiss his way down her sternum with lips full of adoration. His mouth burns across her skin, hotter than she’d imagined, and he surprises her with a flash of mischievous teeth and a sucking kiss across her nipple that pulls startled gasps from deep in her chest. 

“Aa-ah, _Minato_ ,” she moans, arching her spine until she’s flush against him, and he hums with such smug pleasure as he manages to hook his hand behind her knee and tumble her back onto the bed in his place. 

“Can I-” he asks, hesitant fingers fiddling with the edge of her tight pants, his own gaping just a little at the top. She wants to bite him there, the trail of golden hair down past his navel, but for now he’s looking at her with such big, wondering eyes and she’s going to be nice. _For now_. “I’d really like to, if you’ll let me-” And she almost doesn’t know what he’s asking for but then he ducks his head and kisses her, right in the dip between her stomach and her hip, and she has to tangle her fingers in his hair just to hold on. 

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” she encourages him, tugging him closer until he can yank at her waistband with his teeth, pulling her pants and underwear off in the smoothest motion he’s managed yet. 

He eats her out with such careful attention that it has Kurama shivering in her belly, the brilliant, quick fingers that have made his legacy immeasurable slotted just right inside her and his tongue a conqueror. She yanks at his hair, nearly crushes his shoulders between her shivering thighs, but he never complains- he just moans against her when she pulls hard enough to hurt and shakes with arousal even as he rededicates himself to her pleasure. His lips are just perfect, sucking her clit until she sees stars and begs him for just a little more, just enough to push her past that quicksilver edge into the flood of fullness she sees beyond the horizon. She bends for him, twisting her hips when he strokes in slow with his fingers and curls them up, watching her face crumple as he rubs against that tender place so deep she almost can’t breathe. 

“Too much?” he asks, when she whimpers brokenly and chokes on the sharp pang of pleasure spreading through her. His lips rub softly along the crease of her hip and thigh, teeth gentle behind them, and she shakes her head and pulls him ever closer. 

“Just- just right,” she gasps, letting him hook a third finger into her cunt and _press_. She shatters apart when he dips down further and sucks her clit between his plush lips again, holding her steady and drinking up the honey flooding from her like he’s the one gaining sustenance from this. It is, it’s just right, his gentling touches and the almost absentminded way he uncurls his fingers and rubs soothingly, softly up against that vulnerable spot as she twitches through the aftershocks, licking just around her clit but not enough to feel sharp and overstimulated. 

It’s the way he looks at her, enamored and flushed, so happy just to watch her feel good, that makes her shove him back into the sheets and yank his pants off, get her still-quaking thighs around his waist and sink down on him, sucking down his moans like air. And oh, fuck, his cock is _perfect_. Thick and curved just right and fucking hot inside her, sating the hunger she’s been chipping away at all night, every time she gets her hands on him. She rides him like that, his hands firm and trying to be considerate, polite on her hips, until he’s twisting under her and biting his lip to keep himself under control. His chest is the perfect canvas for her nails, scratching pink and relishing in the way he whines for her at the delicate sting- his neck is perfect for her teeth, and Kurama is deeply, viscerally pleased by the way she marks her claim there without remorse. 

By the time she’s done with him, he’s purple and red, blood-flush and blossoming, breathless and undone underneath her as glorious as she’s ever seen him on any battlefield. 

She was right. It _is_ divine. 

* * *

“I can’t believe how hard it was to get you to notice me,” she groans, muffled in between his arm and the sheets as they lie there panting in the afterglow. Minato startles, looking down at her with those beautiful summer-day eyes wide open in shock. 

“Notice- notice _you_?” he says, absolutely floored. “Are you kidding me? I thought you were just being nice!”

“Being _**nice**_?” she fairly shrieks, rolling over to straddle him again, holding him down on the bed with her hands tight around his shoulders. “Mina, _Mina_ , beautiful, I’ve been trying to fuck you for literal years by now. I wasn’t just being sweet when I said your ass looked edible. I wasn’t just being friendly when I told you I’d suck your soul directly out in those robes. Minato, didn’t Jiraiya enlighten you? Shikaku? _Anyone_?” 

“Oh,” he says faintly, cheeks flushing rosebloom pink once more. “Well, I… I suppose. We should make up for lost time, then?” 


	11. shadow (clone) + dirty talk (kakaobirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi means to drive them both insane with his words.
> 
> Feat: voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, talk of future kink negotiation/scenes

Kakashi’s shadow clone catches him just outside the door to their room, just as he’s about to slide the screen all the way open, and curls around him like a trap. They can both hear what’s happening inside, can see through the three inches of cracked screen, the way Kakashi (the original, the real one) has Rin spread out on the futon like a  _ meal _ . Obito makes an involuntary noise, a rumbling groan, his cheeks flushing at the lewd angle of Rin’s legs, bent back and quaking with the effort of holding still. Kakashi leans over her, one hand braced beside her waist, the other one buried deep between her thighs. 

“Can you hear it?” the shadow asked, chin bent over Obito’s shoulder and hands wrapped tight around his wrists. “How wet she gets, just thinking about us like that?”

And that’s the thing- he  _ can _ . Every time Kakashi fucks his fingers back in, Obito can hear the filthy, slick noise it makes, how Rin whimpers for it. He can see the arch of her back and the sheen of sweat on her shaking thighs, the way her hands tremble, gripping the bedsheets for purchase, and her teeth dig into her reddened lower lip. She nearly sobs for him when he slows his hand and twists it, curling up, pressing against that soft, tender spot behind her pubic bone. Obito whines deep in his throat at the sound. 

“You want it?” The shadow asks him, smugly rumbling chest up against his back, and Obito jerks in his hold. This version of their boyfriend, cruel and teasing, just tightens his grip on Obito’s wrists and shoves a thigh between his legs from behind. 

“Of course I want it-” Obito hisses, even as he feels heat pulling at his stomach. The shadow fits his teeth against Obito’s neck, bites down and laughs when his knees go wobbly and Obito stumbles back even further into his hold. “A-aah, fuck, Kakashi,” he stutters, and the shadow laughs. 

“ _ Kakashi _ is in  _ there _ ,” he murmurs, slowly rubbing his thigh along Obito’s, rucking up his pants around his growing erection, “fucking your girlfriend.”   


* * *

“You like him watching us?” Kakashi asks her, raspy voice directly in her ear as he curls his fingers further, tugs even more strands of pleasure directly from her gut. “He’s getting hard just hearing you, seeing you like this, all sweet and wet for me.” He rubs a cruel thumb over her clit, dragging a broken moan from her chest as she shudders under his hands, her hips bucking up against him . “Ah-ah-ah,” he sings, just loud enough for Obito to catch it, his other hand pressing her down into the mattress. “I told you to stay still and let me make you feel good.” Rin swallows audibly, her knuckles gone white from the tension of holding the sheets tightly as she tries to squirm under his firm grip. 

“Please,  _ Kashi _ ,” she moans, pushing her cheek into his tender kiss as he brushes his lips across her pink, flushed face. “It’s too much, I- I can’t-” 

“Just a little more, I promise,” he soothes, bending down to lick across her swollen lip, sucking it into his mouth and worrying at it with his teeth. His hand slows even more, presses deeper, and he slips a third finger in as she pants and writhes. “So lovely, so good for us, our sweetheart.” 

“Fuck- so much,  _ fuck _ , it’s, it’s so-” she babbles, arching her neck and pressing her head back against the mattress as she tries her best not to move her hips up again. It’s hard not to when he’s hitting her g-spot like that, splitting her open with his broad, elegant hands and whispering in her ear about Obito watching them. She whines, high and unsteady, and he  _ laughs _ at her desperation because the two of them at his mercy like this is just delightful. 

“Should I let Obito in if he promises to be good?” he asks her, kissing along the line of her neck, biting at already-purpling bruises he’s left in the time he’s had her laid out like this. “Or should I make him watch us out there in the hallway?” She finally lets go of the sheets at that, one hand coming up to grasp at his bicep as she shudders, trying to form words through the fog in her head. “You like it, don’t you?” he continues, never letting her catch her breath. “Being watched, having us know that you look like this, so desperate to get fucked. Maybe we  _ should _ let Obito in- sensei’s bound to be home soon, and he’ll catch Obito with his pants down at this rate.” 

And she flushes even deeper red, wine spilling down her chest, her muscles clenching around his hand with a slick, lewd sound as she gasps at the image he’s painted. He smirks, eyebrows raised high, a teasing expression settling on his face even as he leans down to kiss her again. 

“Oh?” he says, shoving a knee up to spread her even wider, until she knows that Obito can see exactly how wet she is from the doorway, how much of Kakashi’s hand she’s taking. “Is that what you want, sweetheart? Not just Obito watching you get fucked, but Sensei too?” Rin tries to press her cheek to the mattress, to look away from him, but he doesn’t let her hide from what her body’s just admitted. “Do you think about it?” he murmurs, low-smoky-hot and almost out of breath himself from the idea. “The three of us, taking turns with you? How good it would feel to have me and ‘Bito open you up for his cock? I know you like it when we fuck you open like that, and Sensei’s even bigger than we are.” 

“M-maybe, I like- I like it when someone’s watching, I just,” she gasps, her fingernails slipping on his shoulder and trailing red lines down his skin as he rocks against her thigh a little, his own erection sorely untended to given his focus on her. “Maybe I- I just want, Kashi, I want to  _ come- _ ” And he backs off a little, kisses her gently, nudging his nose against hers in comfort. 

“It’s okay, baby, sweetheart, pretty,” he whispers, rubbing his hot cheek against hers and giving her more consistent touches, rubbing over her clit to hear her breath stutter and shake. “You don’t have to decide, you don’t have to know now, you’re just so sweet like this, thank you for letting me have you-”   


* * *

“Oh, she’s even better like this than we imagined,” the shadow sighs happily, his thumb rubbing warm circles on Obito’s wrist as he leans in and presses warm against Obito’s cock with his other hand. “Did you hear that, ‘Bito? She doesn’t just want  _ you _ to watch.” Obito’s breathing hard now, mind a little hazy, struggling to keep up with what’s just happened. She’s- Kakashi said- and what would he do? If Minato caught them like this, twined together and watching Rin get driven out of her mind? God, if the two of them  _ opened her up _ for him, and watched her take his cock like that, pliant and sweet and dripping? 

Kakashi guides her through it so gently, even when she gets shy at the idea, softening her up further and giving her the pleasure she’s begging for, until she’s crying out for him again and her body’s opened back up, melting back into the mattress. 

“Give it up for me then, baby,” their boyfriend coos softly, hooking his fingers into her cunt again and pulling the pleasure from her without mercy. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you can, you want to come so bad, don’t you-” He kisses her, even as his shadow squeezes Obito’s cock cruelly, muffling his laughter at the helpless jerk of Obito’s hips in the other man’s shoulder. 

“Are you gonna come just watching her?” the shadow rasps, rubbing slowly over his erection, spreading his legs even wider with that thigh and unbalancing him further. “Just thinking about how she and Minato would look together? The way he’d ask you and Kakashi to fuck her first, get her wet with your come just so he could fit in, make her sit on his cock and take it all?” Obito’s face feels hot, hazy tears in his eyes from how just the words make his chest tighten and his hips buck up, thinking about it. 

The thing is that he can’t even decide if he wants that more of if he wants it to be  _ him _ that Minato’s fucking open like that, with Kakashi and Rin sat on either side of him kissing him senseless and gentle until he relaxed and let Minato take and take and take  _ everything _ from him. Obito can’t decide who he wants to be watching, whether he wants to be watched, whether he wants to stay here forever and just see their girlfriend admitting all of the things that shamefully get her off. He thinks about the time it took for them and Rin to get comfortable like this, the way that Kakashi tried to take her out on the sorts of dates Kurenai and Shizune recommended, the flowers Obito picked for her, the fact that now she doesn’t just trust them with her life but also the dark things she’d never say out loud, her fantasies (her apparently quite exhibitionist fantasies)-   


* * *

“Let go, darling, come on,” Kakashi says, getting his mouth up under her jaw so he can feel the way her throat vibrates with a low, gravelly moan as she rolls her hips up into his hand and shakes apart. He smiles with hungry teeth at the way she whines, the smell of her perfect, enamored of the way she clutches at him desperately until he’s got crescent moon tattoos from her nails biting into his skin. When she comes, he can hear Obito moan helplessly in the hallway as well, feel the way she trembles and soaks his hand, wet enough that he’s on a hair trigger himself just thinking about it. He sits back, fucks her through it until she’s shivering and pushing at his hand from overstimulation before slowly sliding his fingers out. She’s glowing, melted gold and sweetness all over the mattress, her thighs wet and her chest flushed and her whole body slick with sweat. God, he loves her. He loves that she lets him do this, he loves how she opens up for him, he loves her and Obito  _ so fucking much _ . Which, speaking of-

“Well,” he turns to the hallway, holding his nearly-dripping hand up and beckoning his clone to shove the door open and tumble Obito right through it. “Come here,” he orders, letting his clone push Obito close enough to him that he can get his slick fingers right up to his mouth and raise an eyebrow. The clone climbs onto the bed, circumventing Obito to get his hands on Rin’s thighs and glide up the still-twitching muscle, rubbing a soft circle on her lower stomach and kissing her gently on the knee. 

“Clean up the mess I made,” he murmurs, dragging them across Obito’s lower lip, watching him drop his mouth open like a starved man and suck them in. He laves his tongue across every inch he can reach, even as his eyes dart over to watch Kakashi’s shadow kiss their girlfriend through the afterglow and back up into an aroused, panting mess. “Focus on your task, Obito,” Kakashi says gleefully. “Then you can have a turn- I warmed her up, just for you.” 


	12. pumpkins + stockings (Rin Art)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to switch it up a little for day 12 and did some art! Rin + stockings + pumpkins!


	13. mummy + bondage (obirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito gets into a sticky situation that turns out to be advantageous for both of them. 
> 
> Feat: accidental bondage, pegging, sweetness and fluff

The crashing noise is what gets her attention first.

“Obito?” Rin calls down the hallway, sticking her head out of the steamy bathroom and peering into the shadows, trying to catch a glimpse of her boyfriend. “Are you okay?” A spate of muffled cursing spills from their bedroom, along with a few more crashes and bangs. 

“Totally fine!” Obito’s strained voice echoes towards her. “Don’t even worry about it! Baka-shi just wrapped this costume-- a little-- too-- _tightly_!” Hmm. She finishes cleaning the rest of her costume makeup off, wiping at the perfectly sharp eyeliner with her warm washcloth and getting the final purple lipstick smudges to disappear. The occasional knocking sound and choice selection of cuss words continue, even as she wraps her shower-wet hair up in a towel and makes her way down the hall. Their bedside lamps are on, casting the entire room in an amber glow, and it makes the scene she walks in on especially comical. 

“Some mood lighting,” she remarks casually, leaning up against the doorframe and drinking in the sight of her delightfully sweet, absolutely disastrously clumsy boyfriend. 

“It won’t come undone,” Obito whines plaintively, his hands tangled up in the long white strands of linen that he’d wound around himself (with Kakashi’s help) for his mummy costume. The fabric is knotted around his abdomen, spiraling up his chest until it wraps along his shoulders and down his arms, all the way to his trapped hands. He’s managed to get his legs free, at least, and the pile of discarded fabric next to him along with his clearly visible “who’s your mummy” briefs definitely enhance the effect. She’s struck by a wave of warmth- a reminder of how much she adores him and the silly things he frequently gets up to. 

“Weren’t you a scout?” she asks, even as she pushes off the wall to come help him. Her delicate hands, clever fingers practiced in all manner of complicated tasks, immediately set to trying to figure out the veritable rubik’s cube of knots Obito’s managed to get himself in. “Shouldn’t you know how to undo these?” Obito doesn’t answer for a second, his eyes drawn helplessly down to her exposed, post-shower pink chest, and she shakes his hands to get his attention. “ _Hey_ ,” she says, rolling her eyes just a little and smiling at his predictability. “Can you feel everything? Fingers, palms, wrists, forearms? No numbness, no pins and needles?” 

Obito shifts a little uncomfortably, his face heating up, red blooming around the edges of his cheeks. “Ah, yeah,” he answers, holding his hands up for her and wiggling his shoulders. She rubs a thumb across his one exposed palm, feeling the calluses beneath her fingers and squeezing his (much larger) hand as best she can. “But I failed that badge test.” She tests his arms a little bit, just to make sure it’s not imminently causing himself some danger, and stops to think, for a moment, about how similar this is to previous times when he’s been tied up on _purpose_. It’s clear Obito’s thinking about that as well, his eyes glued to the curve of her stomach and the way her breasts sway when she bends over to check the tangle on his stomach. 

“You really got yourself completely trapped,” she murmurs, eyeing the way the fabric is entirely knotted to the point that there’s likely no amount of force that could pry it apart. It’s going to take a different application of force, at this juncture. Good thing she’s got her whole kit here (because she was a scout too, and scouts are always prepared.) “These are just extra opened dressings you got from the medicine cabinet, right? I’ll grab my wound scissors from my bag and we can have these off of you in no time.” She kisses his forehead, then his warm cheeks, loving the way he unconsciously presses into her touch with a little hum of happiness. But when she goes to pull away, to grab her scissors and free him from the mess he’s created, he hooks his tied up hands around hers and tugs her back. 

“Maybe, uh,” he stumbles, face growing even redder, eyes downcast. “You don’t have to get them off… immediately?” She stares at him for a second, the way he’s shifting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread enough for her to fit between them. The flush is almost down to his chest at this point, and he rolls his shoulders a little uncomfortably. 

“You _like_ this,” she accuses, voice entirely without heat, as she steps back in closer.

“It’s possible! I might?” Obito says, a little too high-pitched, as he looks anywhere but at her face. He’s clearly a bit embarrassed by his reaction to the situation, but if Rin has anything to say about it, that won’t last. Oh, her sweet boy, pressing his thighs in on hers as he squirms under her searching gaze. She cups his jaw with one hand, tilting his head until he has to look at her, his mouth falling open a little without any direction as she rests her thumb against his lower lip. 

“I can work with that,” she smirks, pressing her thumb in a little bit and watching as his teeth close gently around it. Her other hand drags up the side of his neck as she leans into him, taking advantage of their height difference. Like this, with him sitting on their bed, she’s just slightly taller than him standing and she can tangle her hand in his hair easily, pulling his head backwards slightly and kissing along the edge of his jaw. He shivers up against her, his thighs twitching slightly, submitting to her easily as his muscles stop resisting the pull of her hand and his head lolls back a little. “What do you want tonight, baby?” 

“Mmm,” he hums, voice thick and happy as he luxuriates in the feeling of her warm skin pressed up against him, her lips brushing along the sensitive curve of his ear. He tugs a little at the knots that wrap around his hands and wrists, pleased by the resistance. He always loves it when Rin’s in charge, because she manages to ride the line between firm and sweet, confident and cruel in the best possible way. “Whatever you want.” He lets his head fall back even further, feeling the slightest edge of her teeth before her hand yanks his hair sharply and she clicks her tongue at him. 

“That’s not what I asked,” she chides, setting her teeth against his throat and sucking a bruising kiss there that drags a moan and a startled squirm out of him. “I asked what _you_ want.” 

“H-aah, um, I-” Obito stutters, wiggling a little and trying to think around the feeling of her mouth, hot and sharp. What _does_ he want? He would be happy with anything she’d give him, really. But what he wants right now, he thinks, is to enhance the deliciously trapped feeling of the fabric around him and the way Rin’s kisses make him want to give up everything he has, everything he is, and just be hers for a while. She bites at him again, a little softer this time, and he’s almost startled by the whine that tumbles from his mouth. Her hand rubs up his chest, catching on the bandages, pushing him back just a little so that she can make eye contact with him. 

“Anything, sweet boy,” she murmurs, kissing the tip of his nose so fondly and leaning in to press her forehead against his. God, he loves her. He just breathes in her presence for a second there, wanting every part of himself to be closer, closer, closer to her. 

“Can you… uh. Fuck me?” he asks, voice quiet between them, unsure on the end, tilted up like a question, as though she wouldn’t give him everything he wanted. He’s still shy about asking for it, even after she’s expressed how much she enjoys that, and the rolling, bashful flush along his shoulders, illuminating all the sun-freckles and spots there, makes her so warm. She smoothes soft fingers down the side of his cheek, gently pinching his pierced earlobe between her fingers and tugging playfully. 

“Of course, cutie,” she grins, soaking in the way his eyes light up, the slide of his sweet, lopsided smile that’s just for her. With her other hand, she yanks a little on his tangled hands, pulling him forward. “Get yourself how you wanna be, and I’ll be back with the goods.” Obito snorts out a little laugh at that, wiggling himself around into position when she steps away to rummage through their toy box, hidden at the back of the walk-in closet. Lube? Check. Harness? Check. That specific purple toy that Obito likes, curved just right? Check. It’s always a little funny how the harness straps and buckles jingle, D-rings clinking and knocking into one another as she drags it up her legs and cinches everything just-tight-enough. She adjusts it exactly, practiced and confident, sliding the toy just right so that the little built in vibe at the back will hit her in the right spot when she finally gets it in. 

On the bed, Obito’s managed to snag a pillow even with his tied up hands, pulling it under his arms so that he can rest on his stomach without worrying about getting his arms cramped up underneath him. His head turns slightly towards her when she comes back into the room, pink cheek pressed to the bed and eyes a little hazy with lust. She can see how his hips are rocking just slightly, gently, into the mattress, rubbing his erection up against the sheets. 

“Didn’ wanna risk the carnage,” he says, wiggling his ass to emphasize that he couldn’t quite get his boxers off without likely tripping himself and falling all the way to the ground. Rin hums, sliding her hands up his warm thighs, across slightly prickly hair and silvery scars, as she climbs onto the bed. 

“Fair,” she settles herself down between his spread legs, hooking her fingers under his waistband and pulling, tugging until he has to bend his knees and push up so that she can get them all the way off. “I don’t mind fucking you like this,” she guides him back down, running her thumb along the curve of his ass and pulling him open for her other hand. “But I would have to draw the line if you broke something.” He laughs, muffled by the sheets, and pushes into her touch. The click of the lube bottle and the sound of her slicking her fingers engenders a near-Pavlovian response in him by now, a shiver running down his spine before the cool lube even meets his sensitive skin, before she can even rub around his entrance and slowly press in. 

“Uu-uh,” he grinds out, hips squirming back when she gets a finger in, forehead against the bed. “How does it always feel so good?” He whines, arching his back a little. “Fuck, I love your fingers, Rin.” 

“I know,” she says, low honey across his skin as she kisses the small of his back, twisting a little and fucking back in with two to watch the flush spill down his body. “You look so pretty, all spread out on my hand.” Every time she turns her hand just a little, she strokes across some sensitive part of him that makes heat stoke bright in his belly. When she finally gives it to him harder, rubbing right against his prostate, he shouts for her, hips bucking into the bed and precome dripping on the sheets. 

“Please,” he begs, so polite for her, so she gives him a third finger and does it again. His thighs shake around her, knees pulling up a little so he can brace himself and get enough leverage to meet the thrusts of her hand. She sits up a little further, straddling one of his legs so she can reach up and get her clean hand in his hair again, pulling his head back enough that his helpless little moans aren’t muffled too much by the sheets. “Please, I need- a-aaahn,” he whimpers, as she twists her fingers just a little and sends fire shooting through his gut. His cock twitches against the sheets, desperately flushed and slick, and god, fuck. He looks so good, all at her mercy. 

“You need what, baby?” Rin asks him patiently, sliding her hand from his hair to his throat, opening him up even more. She could have stopped at two fingers, but honestly? He’s too pretty like this, too perfect, too caught up in the feeling of her to pass it up. “Use your words, sweet boy.” 

“Please,” he says again, eyes screwed shut and fingers grasping tightly at the fabric around them, squirming desperately as his thighs tremble for her. “You- your cock, I need, please, please fuck me,” he stumbles through it, words breaking in half as she crooks her fingers and drags them out, sensitive nerves raw and pleasured. 

“Of course,” she murmurs, bending to kiss the back of his neck and getting up on her knees. He shudders, stretching his arms out and twisting his hands in their binds, getting a handful of the sheets and holding on for dear life when she slides her fingers out of his ass. He bends easy when she nudges at him, spreading his legs wider and getting his ass up so that she can brace herself and fit the head of the dildo against him. The slow slide in is amazing, the pressure against her clit and the sight of him shivering, relaxing back into her until she’s seated deep inside and he can roll his cheek against the sheets, luxuriating in the feeling. “So good, so sweet,” she hums, rubbing her hand across his back and watching his mouth gape open, panting breaths hot and loud. “Okay, baby?” 

“Yes,” he gasps, brows furrowed, biting his lower lip. “So good, yes, please-” She loves how incoherent he is when she gets her cock in him, stroking deep and watching him babble and twist under her, begging for more. He’s enamored with the feeling of her splitting him open, the way she drives her hips with a little up-thrust on the end, rubbing across his prostate and sending shocks through his whole body. He feels out of control, almost, but the comforting weight of her against the back of his thighs and her hands on his hips, the soft murmur of her voice, the fabric scratching and holding at his wrists makes him steady. His knees slide a little when she hikes his hips up further, pulling him until he can’t help but follow and press his chest to the sheets and the pillow beneath him, his erection jerking and suddenly bereft of sensation. And then- her hand, under him, wrapped around his cock, teasing at the slick head and making him whimper, overwrought and over-sensitized. “Oh, I’m- it’s-” he fumbles, tugging at the sheets desperately, tossing his head back. 

“Not yet,” she takes her hand back, watching him try fruitlessly to hump forward and get some friction back, unable to fully shake off her tight grasp at his waist. Palm up against the middle of his back, she pushes him, forcing him to arch even more and slamming in all at once. 

“Oh _fuck-_ ” he shouts, face dropping down the sheets, biting at the trailing knots from his hands to get a hold on the sensation as she speeds up, hitting his prostate dead-on with enough force that sparks and colors light up behind his eyes. 

“Yeah?” she huffs, a little breathless herself, grinding in deep to feel the pressure against her clit, the wetness dripping down her own thigh. “Right there, ‘Bito?” 

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” he sobs, twisting the sheets between his fingers, struggling to keep himself braced under the force of her thrusts. He can feel the knot of pleasure tangling up in his stomach, as convoluted and inescapable as the knots around his wrists, and he has to hold on for dear life as she keeps building it up further and further until he thinks he’s going to break apart. It always amazes him how she can turn him into a million little pieces, shattered in her fond regard, sinking deep under the weight of her love for him. He doesn’t need anything else, could live and breathe this, and he whines so pretty for her when she wraps her hand around him again and squeezes, teasing a thumb across the head of his cock and tipping him forcefully over that silver edge. “F-fuck, ah, ah, R-iiiin-” he gasps out, grinding back against her and riding out his orgasm, unable to catch his breath. It feels _so_ good, wrung out of him from deep in his gut, flooding warmth through every part of his body until his muscles feel lax, loose, like hot molasses. She kisses up the middle of his back, slowly rocking her hips, still fucking into him slow and steady until he shivers and makes a pained sound of overstimulation. She pulls out in one long, languid movement, watching him tremble all around her fondly and helping him roll over off the wet spot, limbs all gangly and uncoordinated from the pleasure. 

“You’re so good t’ me,” he slurs breathlessly, eyes dazed and hazy, hips still twitching with little aftershocks as the endorphins rush through him. She just laughs softly, ignoring the heavy heat in her own abdomen as she kisses the tips of his fingers, checking to make sure everything’s still safe and the knots haven’t gotten too tight. 

“I love you,” she reminds him, bending up to kiss his slack mouth, sucking gently on the swollen bite mark in his lower lip and eating up his lazy sound of happiness. “Up for a little more?” 

“My mouth still works jus’ fine,” he grins, sloppy and lascivious in the afterglow, handsome as ever. She just grins back, getting her own slightly shaky legs up under her after shucking the harness off so she can crawl over his body, slinging a leg over his shoulder and feeling him brace his tied hands up against the small of her back. She gets one hand on the headboard to brace herself, the other in his hair, and lets him have at it, licking up the slick that’s dripped from her while she was fucking him. Obito knows exactly what to do, how to fit his lips around her clit and suck not-too-hard-not-too-soft, how to press the flat of his tongue against her and rub in such a way that her hips jerk into him, grinding down on his face. 

“Fuck,” she breathes, eyes slamming shut, feeling herself soak his face and the vibration of his pleased moan against her. “Just like that, baby, just- j-just there, I’m-” Obito’s chest rumbles his satisfaction, hands pressing more firmly against her back to help her stay upright as she wobbles a bit, his tongue dragging a helpless groan right out of the depths of her stomach. She yanks at his hair, unable to help herself, shuddering at the sweet-rough-slide. He tilts his chin up and sucks at her clit again, sloppy and ardent, and he manages to hit the right angle to send her toppling down after him, whimpering and shaking through her orgasm. It takes her a minute to be able to leverage herself off of his face, toppling down next to him as she tries to catch her breath. “God, you’re perfect,” she murmurs, rubbing a hand across her face and pressing her leg against him, feeling him curl into her. 

“Only for you,” he says, soft and sweet, his cheek fitted perfectly against the crook of her arm. She pets his hair for a few minutes, the two of them just basking in the feeling between them, before she wobbles her way up and slides off the end of the bed. 

“Let me get you out of this mess, handsome.” 

And he waits for her there on the bed, grinning up at the ceiling where they’d pressed little glow-in-the-dark stars after they first moved in, feeling the love warm in every bit of his body, knowing she’ll come back and save him from himself all over again.


	14. frankenstein's monster + praise (kakaobi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi praises the uncomfortable things that Obito would rather avoid. 
> 
> feat: body worship, praise kink

“I don’t know,” Obito says, gesturing awkwardly with his paler, scarred arm, hanging out of his yukata. He’s got it on halfway, tugged down to his waist and only covering him like a skirt at this point. “Sometimes I feel like he- he put me back together wrong, or whatever.” 

“Well,” Kakashi says sensibly, blinking at him with borrowed eyes. Like the ticking of a slow clock, a single bead of sweat drips down his eyebrow, and he wipes it away. “He sort of did, but it was on purpose, so it’s not like it’s your fault.” 

“You’re not being very helpful,” Obito pouts, flopping back against the futon and kicking at him weakly. The fan’s on high, but it’s not helping the heat much. The two of them are just sweating in the strange autumn heat wave, paging through magazines Rin brought them and wondering over the way Obito’s mokuton arm seems to be acting up recently. God, he wants a fucking popsicle, but Rin won’t be off her shift for another three hours and he doesn’t want to go get them without her. 

“Oh?” Kakashi hums, seemingly absently, as he puts the magazine down, letting it slide to the floor and crawling closer to Obito. Obito scowls at him, flapping weak hands as if to push him away, but he’s mostly unsuccessful, especially when Kakashi reaches out to grab his palm and kisses him there. It’s almost too hot to want his boyfriend anywhere near him. All the same, there’s a little tugging in his chest, a small tendril reaching towards Kakashi like he’s the sun himself. 

“Yeah,” Obito huffs, turning his head away from Kakashi’s gaze even as his cheeks go a little pink. “I’m trying to tell you about my- my insecurities, and shit, and you’re not even paying attention.” 

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” Kakashi smirks, splaying a hand out over Obito’s sternum and bending down to kiss a line up his throat, feeling the other man shiver and shift beneath him. “I just don’t totally agree with you, ‘Bito.” 

“You literally said he put me back together wrong,” Obito cries, head snapping forward again to glare at Kakashi. Their skin sticks together a little, sweaty and overheated, and Kakashi smiles the most infuriating little smile at him. 

“No,” he says, leaning down again and kissing Obito’s clavicle, the space where his skin meets the mokuton cells, the pale line dividing continents between fire and earth, water and sky. He drags his tongue down Obito’s pectoral, nosing along the dip of his sternum, pausing with his lips just brushing Obito’s nipple. “I said he  _ sort of  _ did. Your arm works perfectly fine, and besides, I find it to be incredibly attractive anyway.” When Obito opens his mouth to protest again, Kakashi opens his as well, and bites down hard on his nipple. He almost shrieks, arching his back and scrabbling across the sheets for a hold when Kakashi gentles his mouth and sucks, a harsh pull that sends heat directly to Obito’s groin. Holy fuck, what-

“Kakashi,” he hisses, scrambling to get his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders, but the other man just smirks and does it again to the other side, pulling a moan directly out of Obito’s mouth. He squirms, writhing and pushing up against Kakashi’s stomach, feeling himself get hard with barely any effort at all. It’s so much more intense than he would have ever imagined, having never really considered his nipples to be anything special at all. Kakashi clearly likes them, though, laving his tongue over them and sucking until Obito’s wriggling and moaning again.

“Yeah, baby? You sensitive here?” He asks breathlessly, rhetorically, dragging his thumb around Obito’s nipples and watching the way his lover shudders and squirms for it. Obito tries to say something, mouth working around the words, but he can’t seem to pull the words together. Kakashi’s eyes glint, a feral and satisfied gleam, and he bends again to get his mouth back on Obito’s chest. “Come on,” Kakashi murmurs, teeth scraping across Obito’s reddened nipple. He grabs the other boy’s hips a little more firmly, pulling Obito up against his thigh so he can press down and watch the way Obito’s mouth drops open in pleasure. “You’re so pretty, ‘Bito, make such nice sounds for me-“ and god, Obito  _ does _ . 

Kakashi sucks his nipple back in again, biting and tugging and soaking up the sound of Obito whining incoherently, grinding helplessly against his leg. He needs Obito to believe that Kakashi thinks he’s beautiful, desirable, wonderful with every fiber of his being. He trails fingers up Obito’s sensitive, pale arm, scratching gently and scraping across scarred ridges to feel the way Obito bucks and writhes beneath him for the explosion of shivering nerves. Obito’s cock is dripping with it, the merciless worrying at his nipples and the way Kakashi’s thigh feels just right between his, holding him down. Kakashi gets a hand on his lower stomach, rubbing little circles that confuse his nerves and send butterflies fluttering through his gut. 

“Just so handsome,” Kakashi purrs, dragging the edge of his sharp canine in a little circle around Obito’s nipple, nearly drawing blood and relishing in the way Obito rocks up and whines for him. “Every part of you, from these,” and he licks lasciviously across the swollen, pink bud, “to this.” He grabs Obito’s ass with one hand, pulling him up even tighter and grinding down until Obito’s mouth drops open and he moans, gasps, slams his eyes shut and tosses his head back. The strange, unseasonable heat only builds between them, sweat dripping down Obito’s thighs, the two of them sliding together. “I don’t care what way he put you back together,” Kakashi murmurs, watching Obito roll his hips helplessly. “I’m just glad he put you back together at all.” 

It’s surprisingly sweet, the fact that he’s so enamored with Obito’s body, the body he feels so self-conscious about in the mirror these days. He trails his fingers along Obito’s legs, tracing around his kneecaps and running along scars like seams on his favorite quilt. There is reverence in each of his moves, even as he’s roughly and mercilessly plying pleasure right out of Obito’s veins. Obito cries out long and low for him, thighs slipping and squeezing around Kakashi’s leg when his cock drags wetly along the thick muscle of his boyfriend’s thigh, just on the right side of too much sensation. Kakashi touches him everywhere for what seems like an eternity, just building him up higher and higher, until he think he’s going to go insane. Finally, Kakashi dips his head back down and sucks at his abused nipple once again, rubbing a callused thumb over the over and encouraging Obito to grind against him and come with a shuddering, shaking, broken moan. 

“So lovely,” Kakashi mutters, brushing his lips up his boyfriend’s chest until he can kiss Obito back into the pillows, swallow his contented sighs whole and relish in the way he relaxes against the bed. And in that moment- Obito truly believes him. 


	15. scars + 69 (kakaobi drabble + art)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks much in part to Anannua's excellent suggestion!

“ _ Please _ ,” Kakashi gasped, bracing his wet mouth against Obito’s thigh and shaking, trying his best not to buck down into his boyfriend’s throat, trembling with the effort of staying still. Obito hummed a laugh out around him, pulling off with a filthy wet sound that sent a shudder down Kakashi’s spine. “I’m- I can’t f-focus,  _ ah- _ uh-” 

“Come on,” Obito coaxed, rubbing a hand over Kakashi’s flushed pink thigh, up over his ass where he’d pinned the other man down and smacked him earlier, playfully and then seriously until he was writhing and begging for more. “Get that pretty mouth back on me, Kashi,” he licked at the precome dripping off Kakashi’s cock, laughing at his involuntary whimper. “There you go babydoll, exactly like tha- _ aaah _ \- that,  _ good boy _ ,” he moaned, rocking up slowly into Kakashi’s hot, overwrought mouth. Kakashi whined deep in his throat, tongue working sloppily around Obito’s cock as he squirmed under the weight of Obito’s praise. 

“Mm-mmhhg,” Kakashi groaned, panting heavy through his nose, sucking hard on the tip of Obito’s cock even as his hands fisted in the bed sheets, looking for anything to anchor him in the storm. 

“Remember,” Obito said teasingly, hands grasping Kakashi’s thighs and pulling them just a little wider, just to watch him flail and sink deeper on Obito’s erection with a helpless whine. His elbows knocked against Obito’s legs, hair brushing his skin like shivery wing-tips. “Gotta come with me, pretty,” he laved the flat of his tongue over Kakashi’s head, tugging him down further to fuck in deep, soaking up the perfect, reverberating moan in a beautiful feedback loop. He dug his fingertips in, feeling the scarred skin give, and let Kakashi set the rhythm. 

Fuck, Obito always had the best ideas. 


	16. siren + striptease (minakaka, request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minato is a tired witch. 
> 
> Kakashi is a beautiful siren. 
> 
> Jiraiya is a meddling mentor. 
> 
> Feat: exhausted 30's Minato being blindsided by the most compelling performer he's ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for you, @obitoforpresident 😘

Minato is… tired. He doesn’t want to be here, not really, but Jiraiya had insisted, and while Minato usually ignores his mentor’s plaintive requests to come out drinking after they close up shop, well. He’s running a little low on willpower anyway. And Jiraiya rarely steers him wrong, after all. He cares for Minato, always making sure he’s bringing enough food for lunch and taking weekends off every once in a while. Minato’s in his thirties, but that fact never seems to discourage Jiraiya from trying to help him loosen up a little. 

“You’ll love this place, I promise,” Jiraiya told him, clapping his shoulder companionably and winking. “I know you don’t usually like the shadow sector of the city, but there’s this performer that you’ve  _ got _ to see.” 

“I’m not coming to the strip club with you,” Minato had said, wearily locking up the store and watching his mentor’s face crumple up in the reflection of the front window. 

“You’re killing me, Mina,” Jiraiya groaned theatrically, leaning back against the building. “It’s not a strip club, it’s a burlesque show. I promise you won’t have to actually lay eyes on anyone’s unmentionables. You don’t even have to face the stage, if you don’t want to. But the voices are to die for, even if you’re staring at your drink the whole time. It’ll relax you a little before the weekend, yeah? You can’t spend Friday night all alone!” 

“Fine,” Minato had sighed, smiling despite himself at the hopeful expression on Jiraiya’s face. “Let’s go. Just one drink, though, okay?”

So now he’s here, nursing a whiskey at this kind of grimy bar, tracing patterns in the condensation and trying his best to keep his eyes on the most respectful of areas. Jiraiya was right about this place- it has absolutely beautiful employees. Everyone who’s greeted him is lovely beyond belief, and the bartender winking at him when he set down Minato’s whiskey sent him into a paroxysm of blushes. And the voices are pretty good, truly. The singer on stage now has a wonderfully smoky voice, deep and amber-honey in his ears. He can feel his shoulders slowly relaxing over the course of her set. As tired as he is, and as much as this isn’t his type of scene, there’s something nice about being a part of the swirling rush of patrons and music in the dimly lit club. Another set goes by, a handsome pair of redheads who twine together on stage in a way that makes Minato’s face feel hot- a little too much for him, perhaps, too intimate by far. They kiss between songs, hands up each other’s skirts, and Jiraiya cheers lowly for them until they wink lasciviously in his direction. 

After them, when the dregs of his whiskey are sloshing watery in the bottom of his cup, Jiraiya elbows him with a grin. 

“The one I really wanted you to see is up next,” he murmurs in Minato’s ear, teeth gleaming in the reflecting lights. “I saw him last week, and I knew. He’s exactly your type. I’ll introduce you after the show.” Minato manages not to roll his eyes- how many times has Jiraiya set him up on blind dates with people who are “ _ exactly his type _ ”? And how single is Minato now, after all of them passed by completely disastrously?

But then-

Then-

The man steps out on stage. 

He’s pretty, sure. His silver hair looks like falling stars streaking through the night under the stage lights, and his legs are absolutely to die for. They’re long, slender and muscular all at once, with faint scars running along one perfect thigh. And his outfit, oh- the blood red corset he’s got on is certainly doing him some favors, cinching in his waist so that when he turns slightly towards the audience, Minato can think of nothing other than getting his hands around it. He’s got… lipstick, maybe, or gloss on, something that accentuates the curve of his mouth and the single scar running down his face. It’s endearing to see that he’s just in stockinged feet, sliding along the polished wood, giving the impression that they’re all already in his boudoir and he’s merely entertaining them after the show. He’s lovely, certainly. Minato will agree that the man’s more to his type than anyone else Jiraiya’s dug up for him before. He could see himself asking this guy out for coffee, appreciating the way his long fingers look wrapped around a cup, maybe getting up the courage to kiss that mouth, make him laugh and blush a little-

And then he opens his mouth. 

It’s like everything else falls away. 

“You didn’t say he was a siren,” Minato says, through the cotton-wool feeling in his ears. He sounds like he’s underwater, and Jiraiya’s laugh simply melts into the background as the man on stage begins to sing. Minato just can’t look away. It’s the voice, or maybe it’s the legs, or perhaps it's the way the man’s eyes seem to look directly into Minato’s very soul. They’re mismatched, grey and red, with that strangely compelling scar running down through the red one, a rose-gold accent on his pretty face. The thing that he’d forgotten, having spent so many years dealing with mainly other witches at the sealing shop, was the sort of double vision that came with listening to a siren sing. On the one hand, he can see those glossy pink lips moving, the fingers trailing down his crimson corset, slowly teasing at the hooks. Something about him is so  _ dangerous _ , lethality contained within the sweetness of the high, angled cheeks, garters gleaming satin, underwear ( _ panties _ , Minato thinks hazily,  _ oh my god he’s wearing lacy  _ **_panties_ ** ) hiding almost nothing at all. It’s a lovely, sensual song, even if it is in the native language of the sirens, and thus sounds familiar and yet like nothing he’s ever heard before. It tricks his ears, sliding along vowels in such a way that he almost understands the words in one moment and then is utterly lost in the next. 

Then there’s the double-vision, the second layer that Minato associates with the magic of a siren song- its ability to drag your imagination off into a lurid series of scenes, pulled straight from the depths of your own visceral hungers. A sudden starvation, the ache of want so thick in his veins as he sees vividly all the ways he could have this siren underneath him, astride him, between his legs. He wants those thighs around his waist so badly, to feel the lace give way under his hands, to swallow down that voice with his hungry mouth. The siren slides his thumb under the first hook at the top of his corset, unsnapping it. Even though Minato knows, logically, that he can’t hear the sound over the voice and the swelling strings from the accompanying house band, he feels it reverberate through his chest. He leans forward in his seat unthinkingly, teetering on the edge of the stool, eager for a further glimpse of the performer’s smooth moonlight skin. Minato is floating on the idea of touching it, of getting his fingers underneath that red fabric, of putting his mouth there and wondering at the sounds he can get out of the siren. He thinks of touching the other man’s throat reverently, slowly, softly kissing it, adoration at the well of such lovely sound, enthralling every inch of him. 

His skinny hips sway, liquid metal on stage, fingernails dragging a garter and snapping it off in a smooth movement. Minato’s mouth feels dry as a desert, swallowing compulsively around his own building lust. If he could, he’d fall to his knees at the other man’s feet, drag that satin down with his teeth and kiss his way back up until he could breathe over the thin lace just barely covering a cock that Minato would desperately, desperately like to have fucked down his throat at this exact moment. Minato was weary when they got here, but now he’s filled with energy, a swelling thick mercury in his veins that burns through him with each smooth, slippery word that meets his flushed-pink ears. He looks around briefly, darting eyes back and forth, and although everyone is watching with rapt attention, no one seems to be as wildly overwrought and strung out as he is. Jiraiya had been right. It’s been far too long since Minato cut loose, if this is all it takes to have him on edge. 

But before he can even think about taking a deep breath and trying to sit back in his seat, the siren puts one leg up on the velvet stool on stage, bracing his foot and bending in half to pull his stockings off. He rolls them down slowly, slowly, slowly, as slow as the single bead of sweat dripping down Minato’s forehead, revealing more and more pale skin that aches for someone’s enamored mouth. The siren hums through the next bit of his song, an endless seduction, standing up straight before turning so his back is to the crowd to bend forward for the other leg. Minato stares, feeling completely unhinged by the curve of his ass in red lace, the obvious bulge of his cock, the way his muscles tense and coil and stretch on the back of his thigh. God, he would love to  _ ruin _ him, to eat him up until he begged for mercy in that sweet silver voice, fuck him open with a worshipful, wet tongue. His hands clench on his thighs, fisting the fabric of his pants, willing himself still. 

The next to come off is the corset. The first pearly snap has already been undone, and the siren’s limber, elegant fingers slowly help the rest follow, until he’s holding the loosened garment to himself with one palm pressed flat across his own stomach, tilting his head back to look out over the audience with a sultry, pleased expression, as though he can’t bear to let this last vestige of modesty fall to the ground, despite his satisfaction at their attentions. Minato licks his dry lips, foot slipping on the stool, and manages to slide off of his seat with a fumbling yelp just as the siren drops his arms wide and lets the corset go, exposing his beautiful abdomen and the faint trail of silver hair climbing up to his navel. No one else seems to even register what’s just happened, too caught up in the siren’s spell- even Jiraiya is bound to the stage, his drink forgotten and melting away in his hand. But the siren hears him (of course, free of his own enthrallment) and his eyes snap to Minato’s with marked amusement, lips quirking up in a sincerely sweet smile. Minato’s face is bright red, he’s sure, his elbow stinging a bit from knocking it against the bar, but he can’t help but latch on to that eye contact, embarrassment warring with pure lust. 

And then the act is over. 

As the siren disappears backstage, another set of performers coming out, the swirling sounds of the club pick up around him again, everyone slowly shaking off the trance of his beautiful song. Jiraiya laughs, just a little shaky, and takes a sip of his tepid drink. 

“I told you,” he says, leaning in and smirking at Minato’s flushed cheeks and ruffled appearance. “So- you want to meet him?” 

Minato doesn’t even think before slamming his glass back on the bar, rifling through his pockets for the money to pay the bartender. 

“ _ Yes _ .” 

* * *

The siren ( _ Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi, _ his name blurs over and over in Minato’s head, as silvery and smooth as the man’s voice) tastes as sweet as he looks. 

“You’re rather well behaved,” Kakashi drawls, a little breathless from the attention of Minato’s mouth on his collarbones. He runs those concerto fingers through Minato’s ruffled hair, tugs gently, arching back to let Minato at every bit of his sugarcube skin. “For someone who looked at me the way you did, out there.” The dressing room is dim, velvet curtains and a big soft couch that Kakashi had pulled him onto after Jiraiya left them alone with a wink and a grin. Kakashi’s not wearing much at all, just the lacy panties and a thin yukata that he hadn’t even bothered to tie. It makes it easy to put his hands all over the hips that he’d wanted so desperately to bite cherry-blossom pink when Kakashi revealed them on stage. 

“Well,” Minato murmurs, more confident sounding than he is. His stomach is a twisting knot of arousal and anxiety, of anticipation and the fear that he’ll do something terribly wrong. He wants Kakashi to keep talking to him forever, for the chance to worship his body like this, until he knows intimately what Kakashi sounds like when he cries out, when he shudders, when he comes. “Well-behaved people are more likely to get what they want.” 

“And what is it that you want, Minato?” Kakashi asks, amusement obvious, although from the glint in his eyes he already knows the answer. His palm cups the back of Minato’s neck, drawing him up for a filthy, sloppy kiss, slotting the two of them together. Minato shivers, grinding down a little helplessly, getting his erection pressed tight to Kakashi’s muscular thigh. 

“I will take  _ anything _ you’ll give me,” Minato says, starving and serious, avaricious beyond words as he pulls the other man tighter against him. “So be careful what you offer next, beautiful.” 

“What I want,” Kakashi breathes, rasping just a little, glittering threads of magic in his voice as he twines himself further around Minato. “What I want is for you to get this damned lace off of me and fuck me over this couch, and then I want you to take me home and let me make you breakfast in the morning, and then-” he gasps at the way Minato’s teeth set into his throat, sucking a purple mark there, stoking the flames higher and higher between them. “Then I want to know what you sound like begging for my cock in your mouth.” 

“You don’t even have to make me breakfast,” Minato pants, out of breath from the ardency of Kakashi’s desires, from the weight of his own want for them. “Sweetness, I’ll suck your cock right now.” 

“What was that about being well-behaved?” Kakashi moans, wriggling his own hands down between them to pull his panties off, shoving at Minato until the two of them can part just enough to remove their clothes. “Stick with the program, and we’ll see what I can do.” 

“Gladly,” Minato rasps, and then- he falls upon him with the burnt and bruising passion of a thousand unfulfilled suns, let loose at last. 


	17. FLUFF BREAK (Team Minato, Hugs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi learns how important human connection is, through his years spent as part of Team Minato.

The thing is- at seven years old, when Kakashi watches Minato-sensei on the battlefield, he sees a hero. A prodigy, not unlike himself, a seventeen-year-old whirlwind decimating enemy troops and mounting higher and higher bounties in the bingo book. He’s almost beautiful in his movements, flashing from one end of the battlefield to the other in an instant, an ethereal specter of death. On the battlefield, Kakashi knows, deep in his chest, that he’ll never stop learning from this man. He understands his movements, his priorities, his strategies so easily. They are logical, concise, calculated- everything he wants to be himself. He devours every book that Minato gives him, watches every movement, wishes a little bit that he had a Sharingan with which to record the way Minato manages to tie up an entire team of enemies without breaking a sweat. 

Off the battlefield, however, well. Kakashi can’t figure out Minato’s motivations to save his own life. 

He’s always patting Kakashi’s back, and offering him a hand, or telling him he can have a piggy-back ride if he wants. He ruffles Kakashi’s hair, going so far as to even kiss the crown of his head when he goes off on a mission alone without his protege. He brings Kakashi lunches, and makes sure that he’s eating enough vegetables when he’s alone in the house. Minato makes them do things for _fun_ , even when Kakashi can’t figure out how it’s supposed to help him become a stronger shinobi. He doesn’t get why they go down to the lake and eat popsicles, pants rolled up and feet dangling off the end of the dock, but he can admit that it’s… nice, at least. The best part of their afternoons together is that sometimes Minato-sensei will tell him stories about what it was like to fight on the field with Kakashi’s father. He doesn’t really know how he feels about his tou-san these days, but he does know that hearing about the things he did for the village makes the deep ache always residing in his chest ease up a little bit. 

On weekends, Minato will show up at his door with Kushina in tow, ready to bully Kakashi into getting barbecue with them, or going to watch some musicians play out in the park. Kushina is loud, always arguing with Pakkun about something or another when he’s around too, brash, brightly colored. She’s even more confusing than Sensei. She asks him so many questions, and wants to know everything about the missions they go on, and Kakashi thinks she needs to go back to the academy for more stealth training if she thinks this is what a subtle interrogation looks like. 

“Sometimes,” Minato explains patiently, after Kakashi tells him that one morning during training, “people ask questions because they’re genuinely interested in getting to know you. All conversations don’t have to be mission-oriented, Kakashi-kun.” 

Kakashi doesn’t totally understand it, but he tries his best, the next time Kushina leans over the table and points a stick of dango at him and asks him in a dangerous voice if he’s been eating enough, to answer honestly. 

* * *

But then also- sometimes, completely inexplicably, Minato-sensei will also try to _hug_ him. He’ll sweep Kakashi up in his arms, silver-bell laughter ringing through the training grounds, and sit down against a tree with Kakashi squished tightly against his chest. 

“Excuse me,” Kakashi says snippily, shoving at Minato’s arms and trying to break his hold. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Minato just laughs, tugging Kakashi up onto his lap further, and rubbing a gentle hand over his mussed hair, a little damp from a suiton jutsu he’d been practicing. 

“Kushina thinks you’re suffering a severe lack of hugs these days too, Kakashi-kun,” Minato says, squeezing him once, twice, thrice before letting him go. “People can hug for lots of reasons. You should pay attention to that, hmm? It can be an observation mission for you.” 

“I know why people hug,” Kakashi says crossly, scrambling off Minato’s lap and straightening his clothes. It’s almost comical, the way the seven year old is glaring at him. “I’ve read Jiraiya-san’s books.” Minato’s face goes pale so fast that Kakashi almost thinks he’s been struck by some kind of invisible jutsu. 

“You _what_?” he chokes, his face coloring in again rapidly with a quick-blooming blush. 

“I read Jiraiya-san’s books,” Kakashi repeats impatiently, dusting his arm guards off, looking at Minato as though he simply can’t believe the older boy isn’t getting it. “Because I saw him give you a copy of the latest one, and he told you it was specialized training you didn’t get before the war. But then it was just- just-” he waves, frustrated and annoyed. “ _Sex_ , or whatever it’s called. It was a waste of time.” 

“Oh, god,” Minato says faintly. “Kakashi, please promise me you’ll never read another of those books again.” 

“I won’t,” Kakashi says, crossing his arms and standing firm. It’s funny how much he looks like Sakumo when he does it, his little battle stance that Minato can’t help but find cute, no matter how cranky the boy has been all day. “It didn’t make any sense anyway, and it was kind of gross.” 

“Good, good,” Minato nods vigorously, cheeks a vibrant red. “Yes, very gross, and absolutely not a good battle technique for training.” 

“Anyway,” Kakashi rolls his eyes, absolutely done with their conversation. He doesn’t get what the big deal over Minato’s reaction is. “I don’t need hugs, sensei. I need to go over the change in chakra nature you wanted to work on last week before we got called away on a mission.” Minato seizes the opportunity to change the subject, practically tripping over himself as he gets up to begin explaining the technique all over again. 

* * *

The first time Kakashi really understands how nice it can be to be close to another human, he’s eight years old. He and Minato are in the Land of Snow, running a recon mission for the Lord Third. They had sent a sealed packet of the information they’d gathered on ahead with one of Minato’s summons, but the two of them had been caught in a blizzard before they could go any further. It was a test of Kakashi’s field abilities in inclement weather unlike anything he’d faced before, but Minato smiled warmly at him and praised him for his quick thinking when he found them a cave to shelter in. Now, with a little hunkered-down bed of dry leaves and the quickly dimming embers of their campsite, he’s starting to shiver. He uses the technique that they were taught in the academy- pull your chakra in. Circulate it carefully around your core, and then out to your limbs. Even with the fire and the reflective blanket he had in his mission pack, it’s not quite enough to dull the biting cold nipping at his fingers and toes. 

Minato takes one look at his face, tired eyes squinting over the mask, and zips open his vest and winter gear. Kakashi hesitates, looking at Minato’s widespread arms, but then-

“Come here,” he orders, gentle and firm, and Kakashi crawls miserably over to curl up against his chest without a second thought. Minato zips up everything as much as he can around them, leaning back against the bed of leaves, and settles both blankets on top. Instantly, Kakashi can feel the blood flow returning to his limbs, his joints un-freezing as he settles in sleepily and nearly melts against the older boy’s body. It feels so, so much better than the cold stone. Minato’s hands smoothe over his back, the soothing weight that Kakashi can remember clearly from the one time he’d been hospitalized and his sensei had visited him, spent all day by his bedside, helping him sleep off the injury. Everything is warm around them, and he feels relaxed in a manner almost entirely unfamiliar to him. “Sharing body heat can be important to keep everyone safe on a mission, especially in cold climates,” Minato-sensei murmurs, pressing his cheek to the crown of Kakashi’s head. 

“Hmm,” Kakashi hums, halfway between skeptical and accepting, luxuriating in the fact that he no longer feels like he’s going to become a little shinobi popsicle in the frigid cave. 

“It’s tactical,” Minato says, and Kakashi thinks he can hear the edge of amusement in Minato’s tone, but he’s already drifting off to sleep.

* * *

When Kakashi is nine, Obito and Rin join their team, and it’s no longer just him and Minato-sensei traversing the great shinobi nations together, packs on their back and mission objectives ahead of them. They train, although Kakashi’s not certain that Obito’s actually going to get any better, and then Minato makes them eat lunch and dinner together, and makes Kakashi help them with understanding books that he’d read when he first started working with Minato, and- Overall, really, Kakashi feels like they have a lot of personal commitments to each other that he’s not entirely comfortable with. For a little while, he’s kind of cross about it. After all, Minato-sensei was his first. His and Kushina’s, really. But now, even if Obito trips over himself all afternoon, and even if Rin cuts herself on a kunai and then fails to heal it properly, all three of them get a hug and a smile from Minato-sensei before they go home. 

“Seems kind of weird,” he mutters one evening, watching Rin and Obito leave the training grounds arm in arm, chattering away about some special meal that Obito’s grandmother is going to make them. 

“Oh?” Minato hums, sitting at the base of a tree, rewrapping his bandages. He tries to look nicer when he goes home now that he and Kushina have moved in together, because she’s always got something to say about him taking care of himself out on the field. “What’s weird, Kakashi?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, a little frustrated with himself because he can’t decide out why it makes his chest feel tight and why he’s so upset about it all. Rin and Obito are supposed to be his teammates, and they’re supposed to learn the shinobi rules like he did, and they’re supposed to be useful to him and Sensei when they go on missions. “It’s just. It’s stupid.” He scuffs the ground with his sandal, turning away so he doesn’t have to look at Minato’s ever-understanding eyes, their gentleness far too heavy in the moment. “I just don’t get why you hug them every day too.” 

“Well,” Minato points out reasonably. “They’re also my students, and I love all three of you.” 

“Yeah,” Kakashi grits his teeth, annoyed by the way his mouth seems to form a pout under the mask no matter what he does. “But not for as long as me.” 

“Oh, Kakashi,” Minato sighs fondly, pushing himself off the ground and coming over to scoop Kakashi up into his arms, just as he did when he was several inches shorter and a few years younger, regardless of his flailing limbs. He rubs his cheek against Kakashi’s, laughing as the small boy snaps at him through the mask, squished completely against his chest. “There’s another lesson for my brightest student, hmm? You don’t have to earn hugs from me, I promise. You deserve them just because.” Kakashi huffs, his arms reluctantly coming around Minato’s neck, letting his teacher sling him up on one arm ( he’s still so light, no matter how much Kushina feeds him) and smile brightly at him like river water dancing with sunlight. “Now, Kushina promised me katsudon, so let’s go eat dinner. You can help me dry the dishes, afterwards, and we can work on your sealing again.” 

And, like always, Kakashi agrees. 

* * *

When they’re twelve years old, Obito, Rin, and Kakashi get trapped behind enemy lines. Minato leaves them in a heavily warded hollow beneath a massive redwood tree, promising to return as fast as possible with reinforcements. He’s too chakra depleted to flash them all out, or even just himself, and the enemies have sensors more powerful than any they’ve seen before. They can’t light a fire, nor can they look for food, so the three of them curl up under the roots and woven branches that their sensei had used to protect them for cover, and resign themselves to a long, boring night. As the stars above them twinkle into existence, one by one dotting the dark night like pinpricks through velvet, Rin starts to shiver. She’s skinnier and shorter than Obito, and even though she’s around the same size as Kakashi, she’s got fewer warm layers of clothing to protect her from the pooling fog that floats through the forest floor. 

Obito splutters, much more loudly than he should, when Kakashi rolls over in their little hideout and wraps Rin up in his arms, pulling their space blanket around the two of them with confidence. 

“Bakashi,” he hisses, cheeks turning red, poking Kakashi’s leg with his dirty sandal. “Get away from her!” Kakashi just huffs quietly, pulling Rin closer and letting her gratefully tuck her head up under his chin. Her cold hand slips under the hem of his shirt and he wiggles a little, before settling down further and feeling their body heat fill the space. 

“Shut up, Obito,” he whispers back, rolling his head to the side until he can glare at his clumsy teammate in the dark. “You’re supposed to share body heat with your teammates when it gets cold. See? We’re already both warmer.” 

“It’s nice,” Rin says quietly, cheeks a little pink, and Obito feels jealousy hot in his veins even though he can’t understand who he’s more jealous of, in the moment. 

“I’m cold too,” he says petulantly, and Kakashi just rolls his eyes. He and Rin both lift an arm, tenting the blanket up just a little. 

“Then get under the blanket too, dumbass,” Kakashi mutters, before he closes his eyes and goes back to relaxing into the warmth of Rin half on top of him. After a moment of deliberation, and with cheeks as red as cherries, Obito scrambles into the space they’ve left for him and wiggles his way until he’s also pressed to Kakashi’s chest and his leg is slung over Rin’s. 

Rin was right, Obito decides, although it will be years before he admits it. It is kind of nice. 

* * *

The hug the three of them share, curled up in Obito’s hospital bed when he finally wakes up after the disaster of Kannabi bridge, makes Kakashi fully understand what Minato had once told him about the power of human connection. The hug the four of them share when Minato sweeps in after the doctors, a newly-minted Hokage, is even better. 

* * *

When Rin returns to Konoha with a beast sealed in her belly, and the council puts her in a locked room in T&I for two weeks as Jiraiya and Minato-sensei and Kushina do their level best to keep her alive, Kakashi feels, for the first, time, the fear of wondering if he’ll ever get to hug his precious person again. He and Rin had worried over Obito, bleeding so much and so weak, but at least they’d been able to hold his hand and stay by his side the whole time. Rin is so far from them, so unreachable, and had been missing already for two weeks before they found her. It makes Kakashi’s lungs feel like they’re unable to fully inflate. 

Obito sleeps over every night, the two of them holding hands, together in the spare bedroom at Minato and Kushina’s house, waiting for news. And every night, Minato comes home with a grim look on his face and lies down in bed with them, wrapping them both up tightly while Kushina tosses together a few ingredients to feed their heartsick stomachs. After dinner, she’ll climb in too, and Kakashi will lay his head on her belly, listening to the baby kick, wishing Rin was there with them.

The day Rin comes home, he and Obito hold her so tightly for so long that Obito starts crying, and then Kushina and Sensei are there too, and it all dissolves into a beautiful, tangled mess. 

* * *

“No,” Rin says softly, her hands adjusting Kakashi’s arms around the sleeping baby. “Like this.” Kakashi stares down at Naruto in wonderment, both of his eyes wide open. He’d shoved his hitai-ate up the minute he got in the room, determined to remember every second of meeting their sensei’s child, and now the sharingan spins wondrously as he takes in every detail of the baby’s face. 

“He’s so pink,” Obito says in awe, leaning over Kakashi’s shoulder. 

“And loud,” Kushina says, smiling in exhaustion, slumped over in her and Minato’s big bed. “Nearly screamed Biwako’s ear off, ya know.” 

“He’s perfect,” Minato murmurs, kissing her forehead and leaning his cheek against her, settled up against the headboard, watching his students cradle Naruto with the utmost care. 

Kakashi holds him tighter, memorizing every detail of his wrinkled little face. 

He really is.

* * *

When Kakashi is sixteen, he breaks his own heart. 

He doesn’t listen to Kushina when she says to leave Obito and Rin alone for the afternoon, and when he finds them down by the tea shop near the river running through the village, they’re kissing up against the blooming cherry tree, petals falling gently in their hair. For a moment, he doesn’t fully understand what he’s seeing. But then he blinks, and he sees the way Rin’s hand is curled around Obito’s shoulder, and the way Obito’s palm fits perfectly in the curve of her waist, and he feels something buried deep between his lungs just- shatter. Of course they look beautiful together, the silky fall of Rin’s hair over her cheek, the pink-peach press of their mouths. They break apart momentarily, and Kakashi can see the deep adoration on Obito’s scarred face as he gazes down at Rin, absolutely enamored. She laughs at something he whispers to her, glorious and bright. He’s suddenly, furiously envious- he wants to be Obito, pressed up against the bark of the tree, and he wants to be Rin, leaning against Obito’s broad chest, and he wants- he wants. 

But instead, he leaves. 

He climbs through the window of Minato’s office, even though he’s not really supposed to do that without letting the ANBU know first, and, upon finding that his sensei is all alone, climbs directly into his lap to press his hot, teary eye directly against Minato’s chest. Minato doesn’t say anything (because he probably already knows, if Kushina knows. And he probably knew Kakashi wouldn’t listen, and he probably knew that it would feel like this, to see Obito and Rin together-) before wrapping Kakashi up in warm arms and sighing deeply. 

He lets Kakashi cry on him for the first time in years, rubbing a soft hand over his hair, petting down his back, paradoxically grateful for the fact that even as Kakashi grows more competent, more deadly, more dangerous, he also still allows Minato this closeness. 

“You know,” Minato murmurs, blue eyes kind as a August sky. “You should really talk to them about it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Kakashi says tiredly, muffled by the fabric of Minato’s turtleneck, voice raspy with clogged-up tears. “They’re happy.” Minato hums, kind enough not to make Kakashi meet his eyes, and pets down his back one more time before shutting the book open on his desk. 

“They are,” he agrees, squeezing Kakashi tighter, just the way he did when Kakashi was smaller, when he was being cranky and unwilling to openly accept Minato’s affection despite obviously craving it. “But I think they’d be happier with you.” 

* * *

“You really are stupid,” Obito says, climbing through his window the next weekend, with Rin right behind him. “We would have asked you to go with us, but you don’t like sweets, and that tea shop only serves desserts.” 

“Why would you ask me to go with you,” Kakashi snaps, voice wound tight as he turns his back on them, back to the diagrams he’s working on at his desk. “It was a date, wasn’t it?” 

“No,” Obito says, at the same time as Rin says “Yes,” and then the both of them look at each other and turn back to Kakashi. “Kind of,” they chorus. 

“Well, yeah,” Rin sits on the edge of his bed, as Obito flops down and makes himself comfortable. “It was a date. But it wasn’t meant to exclude you.” 

“It’s fine,” Kakashi says, studiously ignoring their eyes. “I know I’m not good with, with,” he waves his hand, a mirror image of his seven-year-old self. “All of this, or whatever, but I know enough to know that dates are supposed to be two people.” 

“Or three,” Obito chimes in, grin evident in his tone. Kakashi swivels again, glaring at his teammate. 

“I don’t want to be your third wheel,” he hisses, grip tightening around his pen. “Especially not because you pity me, or whatever.” 

“So be our boyfriend,” Obito shrugs casually, sinking down on his back and folding his arms up under his head. 

“It’s not that simple,” Kakashi protests, eyes caught on the way that Rin leans back, her hand curling so easily over Obito’s thigh. He wants it so badly that he can’t even parse their invitation. It can’t be that easy, can it? 

“It really is,” Rin says, smiling at him, as sweet as the mooncakes she makes every year for the Autumn festival. 

“I want to kiss you, you want to kiss Rin, Rin wants to kiss you, you want to kiss me, it’s whatever,” Obito drawls, almost like he’s bored, kicking his feet where they dangle off the end of Kakashi’s bed. “Anyway, when you’re done obsessing over it, you should come over here. Rin and I want to cuddle you and you’ve been impossible to find all week.” 

Kakashi only hesitates a little, Minato’s voice echoing in the back of his head ( _they’d be happier with you)_ , before he sighs and puts his pen away and crawls onto the mattress between them, letting them arrange them exactly as they want. 

* * *

They don’t have lazy days so often, now that Kakashi and Obito have a genin team (and god, what a fucking nightmare their godson turned out to be, as a student) and Rin’s always busy with Shizune and Tsunade at the hospital. But sometimes, if Kakashi is lucky, he can find Minato catching a quick nap on the fold-out bed in his office, in between meetings. 

He gets lucky one slow-moving November afternoon, tapping on the window of the office until an ANBU waves him through with a finger pressed against their mask, in a parody of a shush. Minato’s there on his side, curled around a pillow, blonde hair splayed out across the couch and chest rising and falling deeply. He’s been exhausted all week, struggling to put together another trade deal and fighting both their council of elders and Suna’s all at once. Kakashi’s also exhausted- Obito and the genin are running D-ranks, but Kakashi had been out on a solo mission that forced him to run so quickly without any rest that he’d nearly been chakra depleted when he returned this morning. 

In some ways, it’s just like the early days of the war, when Minato had been using his chakra non-stop to flash their soldiers behind enemy lines, or rescue trapped teams. He would fall asleep laid out in their tent, and Kakashi would curl up in a ball against his chest, taking advantage of the brief respite so that he could try and keep up with his mentor. 

Kakashi drops his flak jacket on the hanger by the door, and slides onto the mattress a few feet away from Minato, the still-jittery adrenaline part of his brain finally registering ‘home. safe.’ now that he’s back by a familiar chakra source. With a sigh, he melts back into the mattress, impressed as ever at the fact that Kushina had managed to find a fold-out couch that’s actually comfortable enough to sleep on. His eyes are almost closed when he feels the mattress shift, and Minato’s callused hand slides over his hip, reaching across him to hold his hand, just like they used to when he was little. 

He’s not little anymore. 

He’s twenty six, and Minato’s thirty six, and they’ve both seen more battles than they can count, but a part of him is still the six year old boy who looked up at Konoha’s Yellow Flash with awe and wondered at his brilliant battle strategies, even though he couldn’t quite understand his motivations when they were at home. 

As he falls asleep, warm and safe, wrapped in Minato’s regard, solid in the knowledge that tonight he’ll get to go home and hold Obito and Rin just the same, the aching little boy in his chest settles down. He didn’t understand it then. 

But he certainly understands it now. 


	18. piercings + playful (Rin/Konan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konan and Rin have some fun by the lake. 
> 
> Feat: soft, playful makeouts and Konan's piercings

Rin loves Obito. 

She really, really, really loves Obito.

And not just because he invited his hot friends from work to come to the lake with her and Kakashi today. Not just because his hot friends brought some excellent sangria, and certainly not just because they offered her their extra sunscreen when she forgot hers, and not just because they make Obito laugh in the most endearing, raucous way. 

Rin loves Obito in this moment so much she’s considering buying him that stupid fancy laser clock he wants for their kitchen and keeps trying to sell her and Kakashi on. Because his hot friends from work include Konan, and the last time they hung out with Konan Rin had fallen stupidly, madly in lust with her, and now, today, that between the sun and the sangria and Konan’s pretty eyelashes, the glint of metal on her lips….

Well, suffice it to say, they’re definitely not getting ice from the closed up snack stand and the little quarter operated machine. Konan’s got her pressed up against the back of the stand, hands up her shirt, fiddling with the tie of her bikini, and Rin is absolutely in heaven. First of all, the other girl is like nearly a foot taller than her, and it’s doing something indescribably good to have Konan holding her up to the wood, a thigh braced between her legs, biceps barely straining. Her shoulders are a bit broader than Rin’s, so she can grab onto them for dear life when Konan does something like, well- pushing the neck of her shirt to the side and biting down, sucking a mark juuuust to the right side of her collar so that it can be hidden, and humming smugly at the way Rin stifles a moan. 

Or like when Konan’s hand slides up the outside of her thigh and cups her ass and Rin realizes how fucking big her hands are, and how her fingers can curve around to just tease at Rin’s rapidly dampening panties. She kisses up the side of Rin’s neck, nudging her wind-tangled hair out of the way so that she can nip at Rin’s earlobe, and Rin decides to get bold herself. She unclenches one hand from around Konan’s ridiculously strong triceps, dragging fingernails down until she can get up under the other girl’s crop top, and cup her breast gently, rubbing a thumb over her pebbled nipple. For a second, as Konan whines a little for her and pushes into her touch, Rin’s not quite sure what she’s feeling. 

Then, when it registers, she drops her head back against the peeling paint and moans, heat racing through her chest wildly at the fact that-

“Oh fuck,” she soaks in the sound of Konan gasping as Rin pinches at her nipple and rolls it just slightly. “You have piercings there too.” 

“Yeah,” Konan pants, a feral grin almost out of place on her porcelain-doll face. God, but she’s lovely, with her perfectly curved lips, and her gleaming jewelry, and her beautiful amber eyes. And her perfectly muscular thigh, too, rubbing up between Rin’s legs and putting wonderful, dull pressure on her clit. “I mean, I work at the studio with the rest of the boys, right? I’m pierced everywhere.” She licks her lips, tongue dragging across the stud just under her mouth, and winks. “And I do mean everywhere.” 

“I’m definitely buying Obito that clock,” Rin says fervently, before she tangles her other hand in Konan’s hair and smashes their lips together hard enough that she can feel the imprint of Konan’s jewelry in her skin. 

“You’re so cute,” Konan murmurs, rubbing a lovely, warm palm up her lower back, biting gently at her lower lip and sucking on it until it’s swollen pink. Their mouths slide together perfectly, a deep, slow exploration, and Rin loses time just floating on the feeling of a sweet body up against her own and the faint, honeyed taste of sangria. She can feel her own arousal, wet under her swim shorts, but the long, drugging kisses settle it into a kindling warmth, just content to feel anything Konan’s willing to give her. It’s the perfect end to their long day, as the shadows grow on the ground in the amber afternoon, as the sun warms their back and Konan whispers sweet things in her ear and Rin finally, finally gets to taste what that tongue stud of hers is like. (I’ve been told it feels good, Konan says, a little bit smug and a little big bashful all at once, and Rin sees spots with how badly she wants to know exactly how it feels on other parts of her body.) 

When Obito and Yahiko finally come to find them, suspicious of how long they’ve been gone, they find Rin bent back, braced against the wall, with half her shirt pushed up and Konan’s tongue stud circling on swollen, reddened nipple with great attention to detail. Rin chokes on her own moan, waving a hand at them, trying to send them away, although Konan doesn’t seem bothered at all. She doesn’t even stop to give them the time of day, much less make it easier for Rin to speak. Of course, given how many times Rin’s walked in on Obito and Kakashi, she supposes this is just payback in due course. 

“We’re leaving in an hour, getting pizza and meeting back up at Nagato’s house,” Obito yells, grin evident in his tone, dragging Yahiko back towards their spot on the lakefront. Not like they’d be hard to find, either- there’s practically no one here, which is the only reason why Rin’s okay with letting Konan untie her bikini and suck little cherry blossom bruises all over her breasts. 

“You know,” Konan murmurs, licking a path right up to Rin’s mouth and kissing her breathless again. “I do have a bed back at the house.” 

“Oh?” Rin stutters, a little unsteady on the feeling of Konan’s fingers sliding across the seam of her shorts, just light enough to be teasing. “I’m not sure I believe you,” she says, more confidently than she feels, grinning lopsided at the other girl when she giggles up against Rin’s throat. “I think I’lll need to see the proof with my own eyes.” 

“I could definitely provide proof,” Konan says, all mock seriousness with mischief glittering in her eyes, and Rin has to laugh, leaning forward and pressing their warm foreheads together. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” she whispers, bending and kissing Konan again, just for another taste of her sun-sweet mouth. 

God, she really is going to have to buy Obito that clock. 


	19. phone sex + stakeouts (kakaobirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito frequently misuses the comms channels on their missions. 
> 
> Kakashi and Rin end up paying the price.

Sometimes, when the three of them are on a long stakeout, alone, far out in the wilderness, Obito will…  _ appropriate _ the comms channels. 

It’s definitely not the allowed or expected use of the little microphones, the miniscule earpieces, the crackling radio signals that only the three of them can hear. 

But if he knows, for example, that they’re going to be out there for several days...

And if he knows, as he does now, that Kakashi has been eyeing the way that Obito and Rin look in their ANBU pants, and lingering for a little too long on the curve of their shoulders, their fingers, their thighs…

Well.

“I can’t wait until we get to hit the onsen on the way home,” Obito murmurs, voice low and raspy, directly in their ears. Kakashi huffs, two hundred meters north, curled up in a huge tree. 

“Typical,” he mutters, voice halfway between fond and derisive. Of course Obito would be looking forward to the onsen, it’s the best part of the mission. They’re going to be so relaxed by the time they get back to Konoha. And relaxation is exactly what Kakashi wants too, because he’s feeling like a wire wound tighter and tighter the longer they remain outside. It’s only been a week since they were last in Konoha- only a week since they last had a chance to be together, the three of them. Kakashi’s twenty six, he shouldn’t be so horny that he can’t go a week without getting fucked, right? 

“Hey,” Obito retorts, laughing gravel through the channel. “If you don’t want to stick around and soak, you can sit in the room alone, and I’ll take my sweet time with Rin in the baths.” 

“Obito,” Rin says, as firmly as she can manage. They can still hear the smile in her voice. “Pay attention.” 

“I’m paying attention,” Obito half-whines, as he settles back in against the tree. And now he knows that Kakashi and Rin are, too. If there’s one thing Obito does love, it’s when his boyfriend and girlfriend pay attention to him. “I can pay attention at the same time as I’m thinking about how cute Kakashi looks when his cheeks get all red from the steam.” 

“I-” Kakashi starts, ready to hiss offense through the channel, but Obito just steamrolls over him and keeps going. 

“Or how he likes to pretend he’s only blushing from the  _ heat _ , when we all know that it’s at least partially because he’s got his eyes glued on your ass, Rin.” 

“Obito,” Rin groans, giggling a little bit despite herself. “You-”

“Shh, I’ve got eyes on the road,” Obito reassures her, grinning to himself. “Even if I wish I had eyes on you two right now. Would you let me watch you, Kashi?” 

“Watch me what?” Kakashi asks him, bland and deadpan, trying not to give anything away. He resents the implication that he stares at their girlfriend’s ass in the onsen. He’s the very picture of a model co-ed onsen guest, thank you. If anything, it’s Obito’s ass that he stares at more regularly. 

“Jerk off, obviously,” Obito says, as though Kakashi’s miles behind the rest of them in terms of catching on. Kakashi splutters, muscles tensing up in his curled up position, sputtering over the line. 

“I’m not- You!” He snaps, as Rin sighs. 

“What, you don’t want to?” Obito coos obnoxiously, dragging his gloves across his own thighs. He knows Kakashi’s ridiculously sensitive ears can hear him touch himself, even if Kakashi doesn’t know that it’s not exactly an inappropriate touch. “We’re going to be a while, and I know you’ve been frustrated, I saw you watching us both earlier.” Both Rin and Kakashi are silent, albeit in different ways, and Obito sees a single flash of chakra from Rin’s direction. A go-ahead signal. He manfully resists the urge to fist-pump. “I know you were watching Rin tend the fire, Kakashi,” he continues, “and the way she bent over, setting up the tents. Was it difficult? Holding yourself back when you knew she would let you put her over the bedroll and get your mouth on her?” 

“I wasn’t,” Kakashi says, rather weakly, and Obito smirks. He’s done for. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, all false sweetness and sugar, as he slides his own gloved hand over his burgeoning erection. “Of course not. Then you won’t mind if I get my chance to when we get back to camp, hmm? You won’t be bothered if I get Rin on her back and suck her clit, eat her out until she’s begging me for more?”

“Obito-” Rin breathes. God, he’s flying higher than the fucking moon right now. He can tell from the catch in her voice, the honey-thickness curving around the way she says his name, that he’s got her too. 

“It’s nice of you to offer to keep watch for us, Kakashi,” Obito rasps, squeezing his cock through his pants and letting out a rather exaggerated, low moan. “Selfless of you to offer to stand by while I fuck our girlfriend, hmm? I trust you to keep your eyes on the perimeter, even if I get her knees up next to her shoulders and really go for broke-” Rin chokes on a noise, and Kakashi just outright chokes. 

“You won’t get jealous, right?” Obito whispers, like it’s just a secret between the two of them. He stares through the dark forest, like he could see Kakashi’s tense form this very second, could watch the way his pants are tenting out and how he’s surely gripping at the wood, stopping himself from touching. “You’ll wait your turn and be good until I put you on my cock-” 

“Obito,” Kakashi whines, low and aching. 

“Or do you wanna touch now?” Obito asks him, leaning his head back against the bark, listening to Rin’s heavy breaths over the line, and Kakashi’s conspicuous silence. “You can, you know, I’m looking out. You wanna get your hand around your pretty dick for me? I bet you’re dripping already, I know it’s been too long since we laid you out.” 

“I’m-” Kakashi starts, then stops. Obito can hear the sound of his zipper getting pulled down, fabric rustling from one or both of them. “Maybe,” he admits, shakily, like it’s embarrassing how little Obito had to say to get him hard. Obito guesses it would be, perhaps, for someone else, but instead all he can think about is how hot it is that both of his partners are so easily affected by his voice. His own erection throbs sympathetically as he hears the slick sound of Kakashi wrapping his hand around his dick, always so wet so quickly. 

“Does it feel good?” Obito croons, palming his erection, spreading his legs wide and recalling exactly what his lovers look like when he has them on their backs for him. Ah, the sharingan is a wonderful tool, even if Obito doesn’t always use it properly. “Rub your thumb around the tip, baby, just get yourself all wet for us, come on. I love it when you let us watch like this, you look so good making yourself feel nice, getting yourself ready for me.” Kakashi whines, thin and thready, and Rin makes a small, huffed out answering noise. She’s probably not got her hands down her pants the same way they do, but if Obito knows her (and he does, oh he really does) she’s squirming in her spot, legs crossed together, focusing on his every word. 

“I wish I could taste you,” Obito says, low and gravelly, because he really, really does. “I love the way you squirm when I swallow you down, baby, how you can’t help it, just fucking into my mouth because it feels too good. Would you let me put my mouth on you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Kakashi whispers, breathless, panting, slick sounds of him jerking his erection quick and short inside his pants echoing through Obito’s head. “I would, I w-would, ah-”

“I know,” Obito laughs, because he _knows_ _exactly_ how soft and sweet Kakashi is when he’s in the mood to be. “Maybe I wanna taste both of you, though, hmm? Maybe I want to watch you get deep in Rin’s pretty pussy, make her come all over you before you let go, and then I’ll taste how sweet the two of you are together.” 

“Aah-” Rin gasps, a cracked, desperate, bitten off little moan. He feels fucking feral, powerful, with both of them under his hands, and he’s not even  _ touching _ them. They’ve got to try this sometime when they’re all in a room together, when he can play them like a puppet master and watch them tremble under the weight of his voice. 

“But I really liked that idea earlier,” he continues, voice never wavering from its task. “Because I’m hard too, just thinking about how cute you both are, and I wanna feel Rin all around me, how sloppy wet she gets when you bend her in half and fuck her hard, just the way she likes, and watch your face as you sit there patiently, good for us, watching me fuck her all full, waiting for your turn-” 

“ _ Bito _ , please, I wanna, please-” Kakashi murmurs fervently, desperate and rough, and Rin’s muffled moans send shivers down their spines. 

“I know how much you like to be good for us,” Obito sings, “That’s why you’re touching yourself right now, right? Because you like to be good, so obedient, our pretty boy, gonna come all over your armor because you can’t help yourself.” Fuck, he’s so hard, but he’s gotta stay focused, because he knows it’s going to sound amazing when Kakashi finally lets go. “But only if we say so, hmm? Because if I told you to take your fingers off your sweet little self you would, right? Since you love to follow all our directions, do everything we say-” 

“Please,” Kakashi near sobs, half-muffled by one of his gloves, the way he’s gotta be biting his fingers now. “Please, don’t- let me, can I, it’s- Obito, I’m-”

“Shh, shhh,” Obito soothes, “you close, sweetheart? Gonna let us hear it?” 

“Yes,” Kakashi bites out, the slick, slippery sounds only picking up. Obito hears Rin shuffle, the choked whimper as she does. “Please, can I-”

“Come for us, baby,” Obito says, leaning his head back and watching the moon above them with barely-seeing eyes, focused fully on the way Kakashi’s sharp little cry gets muffled by his own hand, the jagged breaths, the suddenly much wetter sounds and his tight little whines of pleasure. 

“Obito,” he breathes out, after a moment of panting. “Rin, Rin- I-”

“I think we can go back to camp, now,” Obito cuts him off, stretching up and leveraging himself back onto his feet, trying to adjust his own erection. “It’s past midnight, and I think Rin needs our help with something before we get to sleep for the night.” 

“Yes,” she says shakily, branches rustling quietly on her end, breath heavy and ragged. “I do.” 

“Copy,” Obito says, smirk covering his whole face. 

“Copy,” Kakashi says quietly, after a moment, his breathing almost back under control. 

And in the end-

They don’t get to sleep for the night at all. 


	20. gags + zombie (movie) (Rin x Konan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Day 18, wherein Konan provides proof that she does indeed have that bed she promised Rin could avail herself of. 
> 
> Feat: oral, panties-as-a-gag, Konan's tongue piercing

“Shhh,” Konan whispers, teeth around Rin’s lower lip as she does her best to contradict herself. “They’ll hear you.” Her fingers are rubbing circles over Rin’s inner thighs, just brushing closer and closer to the place she wants them, and Rin’s really going to start begging for it soon. She can taste the lemonade on Konan’s mouth still, hear the zombie movie going in the living room, and god she’s going to go out of her mind here spread across Konan’s lap with the taller girl’s hands going absolutely  _ everywhere _ . 

“You,” she gasps, trying to contain her breathing a little, squirming up against Konan like she can convince her hands to finally make their way just a little further north. “You’re not making it- ah- easy.” And of course, Konan just bites another hickey into her throat with a laugh, warm metal against raw skin, making Rin’s entire spine feel like hot sugar, caramel dripping over a bright red apple and down onto Konan’s fingers. She knows she’s probably making a wet mess of Konan’s bare thighs, but that’s strictly the other girl’s fault and she can’t bring herself to feel guilty about it. It’s a little funny, the idea of keeping quiet at this point- it’s not like the boys don’t know what they’re in here doing. They’d hardly snuck off secretively. Konan had simply grabbed her by the hips and marched her down the hallway to wolf-whistles after dinner, while Nagato was setting up the film in the living room. 

“Mmm,” Konan hums, licking up the side of her neck and getting a hand in her hair, tugging her gently until she’s arched back and the taller girl can bury her face in Rin’s chest. “Maybe,” she murmurs smugly against Rin’s sternum, trailing kisses over until she can fit her mouth around a straining, pink nipple, and  _ suck _ . Rin’s stuttering, broken moan echoes in the darkness of the bedroom, her hips rolling helplessly against Konan’s, thighs clenching down, and Konan just laughs. Her teeth bite down, rolling Rin’s nipple, tugging and sending hot, electric pangs of arousal through a quivering stomach. 

“You taste so good,” she purrs, and Rin really is gonna lose it. She groans, rubbing at her wet, overwhelmed eyes and hot cheeks, when Konan pulls back to look at her with dark intent. “Let me?” she asks, rubbing over Rin’s stomach and down, pressing a palm against the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Her eyes are so dark, shadowed and glinting in the faint light coming from the streetlights outside, searching Rin’s face while the creepy music from the boys’ movie swells louder in the hallway. 

“I really won’t be able to keep quiet if you do that,” Rin confesses, reaching out for Konan’s shoulders with shaky hands. Her smirk tastes like the last remnants of lip gloss and sunshine, kissing Rin deep and sloppy as she leans over with one long arm to rummage through her bedside drawer. They shuffle on the bed, Konan swinging her legs up and tipping them until she can tilt Rin back on the mattress, sprawled out panting on the purple duvet. She looks beautiful like this, with her hair a dark wave across the pillow, cheeks pink and lips swollen, her breasts round and soft in repose. Her stomach, sun-warmed from lying out at the shore, begs for Konan’s mouth to put plum blossom hickeys all around the silver star of Rin’s dangling navel piercing, a tiny gem gleaming in the light, leading like the compass of the heavens down to what Konan’s most interested in getting her mouth on. She crawls over the shorter girl like a predator, panther in the shadows, dragging her leg up along those soft, smooth inner thighs and tangling their fingers until she can press Rin’s hands up against the pillow. 

“Shhh,” Konan repeats, amusement dark in her tone, nudging her nose up against Rin’s and kissing her, just small, short, soft sips from her sweet mouth. Her piercing clacks against Rin’s teeth briefly, making them both giggle, until she sucks on Rin’s tongue and they’re back to breathless lust again. “Here,” Konan murmurs, straightening up a little and pushing at Rin’s hands once more. “Keep those there, and let me help you stay quiet.” Her thumb is surprisingly gentle on Rin’s lower lip, coaxing her mouth open wide and rubbing across raw flesh, watching Rin’s eyes go even more hazy, dazed and sweet. Then there’s lace between her teeth, and Konan urges her to bite down, grinning at her with feral intent. “I promise they’re clean,” she quips, before she’s sliding down and spreading Rin wide open, pushing a leg over her shoulder and kissing at the delicate skin of her inner thigh. 

Oh. 

It registers all at once, her teeth grinding down on the fabric in her mouth, a muffled whimper escaping much more quietly than before, her head pressing back into the pillow as heat flashes through her gut. It’s a pair of Konan’s  _ panties _ . Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . 

Blunt nails scrape down the outside of her thigh, holding her tightly before she feels Konan’s breath huff across her damp curls, a soft hand sliding up the wet seam of her pussy, drawing her open for the flat push of a firm tongue and skin-hot metal. Her knees tremble, pulling against Konan’s strong grip, and the warm burr of her laughter up against Rin’s clit send sparks up her spine. 

“Pretty,” Konan licks again, and Rin writhes for her, opening up like a flower in the spring sunshine. It’s so good, especially after being teased all day, and the feeling of fabric in her mouth keeping her quiet only heightens everything. No one but Konan can hear her whine, moaning through lace when Konan slides two fingers up into her and sucks on her clit  _ mercilessly _ , drawing back at the last second to grin like a wolf, her cheek resting against Rin’s sweat-slick thigh. 

“Ahh- uhn,” Rin stumbles, fingers twisting in the pillow case, her back arching when Konan blows a stream of cool air over her, mischievous teeth biting at her and leaving hickies all along the line where her panties would go. She feels like a live wire, strung so tight and sparking with electricity, as though she’ll shatter into a thousand aching pieces the minute Konan gets that cruel, wonderful mouth back on her. She’ll plead for more with her body as much as the taller girl wants, when it feels so good to get whatever Konan wants to give her. A rough thumb rubs over her, slick circles around her clit, and she gives in- “Plea-the-” she begs against the cloth, tongue working at the damp fabric, her hips twitching up towards Konan’s lips, and she’s rewarded with a blinding smile and the feeling of that same thumb spreading her wide open for Konan’s tongue. The metal of her piercing is devastating against the sensitive nerves, and her fingers know exactly how to twist and pull, to press against her most tender spots, making filthy-wet noises as Konan fucks her slow and hard. 

“Gonna come on my tongue, pretty girl?” Konan asks her, low and rasping across every one of her nerve endings, and Rin feels her jaw clench tight as lips fit around her clit and push her right over the edge. The targeted stimulation is entirely too much, knees jerking and legs trembling as her back pulls until a tight arch and she sees stars behind closed eyes. 

“Fu-uck,” Rin sobs, mumbled and desperate, muscles rippling around Konan’s fingers, the wave of heat going on- and on- and it becomes too much but it still feels so good, a bittersweet aching pleasure that Konan drags out of her with a stroking, persistent tongue. “Mmm-nnn ah, ahhh-” she whimpers for it, hands finally coming off the pillow to tug at Konan’s hair when the sensation gets too sharp, too strong for her. Her mouth gentles, fingers rubbing soothing circles, and Rin’s face flushes wildfire-red to hear the wet sound when Konan pulls away from her. 

“God, I wanna see that again,” Konan swears fervently, worked up and enamored with the helpless, involuntary reactions she can pull from Rin’s faintly-quaking body. A strong aftershock ripples through her stomach when the other girl smirks up at her, tongue toying with the piercing under her lip, face wet with Rin’s come. “Can I have another one, pretty girl?” Rin’s heart stutters in her chest for the ardent way Konan pleads for her to let her fingers remain for a little longer, her hands all over Rin’s warm, loose muscles. How could she deny that, especially when it feels so good? Rin flops a little, wobbles a clumsy, afterglow-shocked hand up to tug the lace from her mouth, trying to catch her breath but entirely unsuccessful. 

“You can do that,” she pants, waving her hand lazily, staring up at the dark ceiling with a spinning head, “any time you want, holy  _ shit _ , Konan-” 

“How do you feel about vibrators,” the other girl interrupts, tracing ticklish circles around Rin’s navel, mischief heavy in her eyes, and Rin just groans. 

“Please,” she begs, tossing the damp fabric of their makeshift panty- gag off into the shadows at the other side of Konan’s bedroom. “I don’t give a fuck if they hear, please just-” 

“Don’t worry,” Konan murmurs, kissing her knee as she levers herself up to rummage again in that wonderful, beautiful nightstand next to the bed. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Rin is perfectly happy to let her do that, over and over and _over_ again. 


	21. anbu + aftercare (kakaobi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jounin Obito + ANBU Kakashi AU 
> 
> All week long, Obito's been waiting for Kakashi to come home.

All week long, people ask Obito when Kakashi is coming home.

It makes sense, he supposes- he’s helping Minato run the Hokage’s personal ANBU corps now, and despite the illusion of anonymity, everyone knows Kakashi is a part of that crew. Asuma and Kurenai come by his desk, in the corner of the Hokage’s office, and tell him they hope Kakashi will be home so that he, Obito, and Rin can come by on Friday night for a party Kurenai is throwing. Gai comes by some time far later at night than Obito would have liked to enquire as to when his eternal rival will return for more challenges. Kushina pokes playfully at him over the breakfast table and bemoans the fact that her favorite babysitter has been gone for  _ days _ . Rin asks if he knows when Kakashi will be home so that she can make sure she’s not in surgery, just in case he comes back bloodied. 

Obito remembers a time when Kakashi didn’t have personal connections like these; when he was attached to no one but his ninken, and then when he was attached to his teammates and his mentor and Kushina alone. It sparks something warm and light in his chest each time another one of their fellow shinobi enquire after Kakashi’s whereabouts, or when the old women at the market slip an extra peach into Obito’s basket ‘for when his boyfriend comes home’. They’re proof of a life that Obito helped Kakashi build, after all. They’re proof of a village that Obito and Rin tie him to, inextricably, through blood and tears and, now that they’ve grown up a little, plenty of late nights curled together. 

And Kakashi does come home to his village, late on Thursday night, while Obito is still in the office filling out rotations paperwork and Minato has long since gone home. 

He senses him the instant he slips through the window. Kakashi is silent as can be, able to mask himself entirely from even their most talented sensors, but he and Obito share more than a life together- as soon as they get close once more, Obito swears he can feel it in his eye, in his chest, in his bones. The Hound of Konoha stands at his side in a bare second, fast enough that Obito almost flinches despite their connection, and his porcelain mask gleams in the low light of Obito’s desk lamp. 

“Welcome home,” Obito says, reaching up for Kakashi’s hand, quiet in a way he never could be when they were younger. He knows, the second their fingers touch, that Kakashi needs him like that. For a moment, they simply sit there, frozen in stasis, crackling lightning chakra zipping between their fingertips as Kakashi struggles to accept a friendly touch. After a minute, his head bows a little, and his shoulders square up again, fingers clenching around Obito’s tightly. “Stand down, Kakashi,” Obito murmurs, and Kakashi drops to his knees without a second thought, kneepads connecting with the carpet of the office with a thick thunking noise. “You’re home.” 

As slowly as he can, telegraphing his movements clearly, he reaches out to grasp the mask and lift it from his lover’s face. Kakashi’s eyes are both clenched shut, breath coming heavy, verging on panicked, and his face is ghostly white. His hair is ever so slightly damp from running through the mist cloaking Konoha at this time of night, and there’s a half-closed gash across his nose that was clearly stitched up by his team medic some time ago. His hands lay flat on his thighs, fingers digging into mesh armor, and Obito can faintly see the way his shoulders tremble in the dim light. 

“Are you bleeding?” he asks, slipping down deeper into his commanding voice, the one he uses in the field, and he’s pleased to see Kakashi actually responds this time. 

“No, taichou,” the other man says robotically, voice gravelly from disuse. “Owl stopped the bleeding in the field.” 

“Wounded?” 

“My wounds are properly dressed and disinfected,” Kakashi rasps, his face relaxing slightly, settling back on his heels. 

“Hungry?” Obito sets Kakashi’s mask back on his desk, rolling back a little so that he can scoot forward and bracket Kakashi’s shaking torso with his thighs. He’s just in the basic jounin blacks and flak jacket today, and he’s glad for the freedom of movement it provides. 

“I-” Kakashi hesitates, head tilting slightly to the side and brow furrowing once more. Reflexively, Obito reaches out with one warm hand to rub a thumb over the wrinkle between his eyes, sliding his fingers up over Kakashi’s cool forehead to rest in his windswept hair. “I don’t know, taichou,” he says, after a moment of contemplation, rigid as he resists the urge to lean into Obito’s gentle touch. 

“Hmm,” Obito hums, stroking through Kakashi’s hair, bringing his other hand up to cup Kakashi’s jaw firmly and draw his face towards the light. “When was the last time you ate?” 

“I don’t know, taichou,” Kakashi repeats, tensing up like he expects to be punished, and it makes something deep in Obito’s gut simultaneously angry and sad. If he could bring Danzo back from the grave and burn him and his Root division down to the ground all over again for what they did to Kakashi when he first joined the black ops, he would. 

“Rin made enough dinner for you too,” he says, as casually as he can, rubbing his thumb across Kakashi’s thundering pulse. “I told her you were coming home tonight, and she’s very excited to see you.” Kakashi’s heart skips, chest clenching, and for a second it seems like he can’t breathe. He shifts restlessly, almost pulling back from Obito, and Obito tightens his grip. He knows what’s going on in Kakashi’s head right now. He is in transition, halfway between the Hound and the man that Obito loves dearly, caught up in the fear that perhaps he doesn’t deserve the welcome home after what he’s been out there doing for their village. 

“I don’t-” Kakashi stumbles over words again, his jaw working helplessly as he tries to fit thoughts together, stuck in the in-between. “I need-” He grits his teeth, frustrated. “Taichou,” he says helplessly, eyes open half-lidded again, searching Obito’s face for something he can’t name. 

“I know,” Obito murmurs, soft as can be, running his hand through Kakashi’s hair again and just breathing deeply, the smell of ozone and petrichor and the trees of fire country, the loam and dirt that keeps them strong. He lets go of Kakashi’s jaw, slides his hand down firmly to unbuckle his dirtied armor and lets it fall to the floor so he can kick it under his desk. No one will be surprised to find it there, or know whose it is. Piece by piece, the Hound falls away and in the end all that’s left is the man Obito loves, shivering between his legs, letting his cheek press against Obito’s warm palm. “Come here,” Obito commands, when Kakashi’s finally free of all the straps, and he hooks his hands gently under Kakashi’s arms, pulling him up so that he can clamber into Obito’s lap. It’s moments like these when Obito’s glad that he grew up to be broader, taller, more overtly muscled than Kakashi did, because it means that his scarecrow boyfriend fits so perfectly in his arms. For a while, they just breathe, Obito’s hands running up and down Kakashi’s back, calming his trembling form. 

He can’t imagine going back to his twelve year old self and telling him this is where they’d be in ten years. 

“Warm enough, Kashi?” he asks, when Kakashi finally stops shaking, and his hands curl back over Obito’s shoulders, one tangling in Obito’s thick hair with the desperation of a man who has tasted death and lived to remember it. Kakashi simply nods against his throat, nose buried there and cheeks slowly growing pink once more. Obito leans back, tracing the line of the scar that brought them even further together with one careful, callused fingertip. “Can I move you, lovely?” he pulls Kakashi up further into his arms, allowing his knees to fall around Obito’s hips, and slides fingers under his boyfriend’s thighs so he can support him fully. “I don’t want your dinner to get cold.” 

He doesn’t mention that Rin promised to keep it in the oven all night long, if she needed to, when Obito had told her he expected it to be a rough reentry for Kakashi. 

“Obito,” Kakashi croaks, rusty voice sliding down the back of Obito’s throat and making his heart stutter and his chest clench tight at the same time. No more taichou- Kakashi is back. “Take me home, please?” 

“Anything,” he swears, lifting up off the chair and pulling Kakashi with him, cradling him in strong arms. 

When he steps through Kamui, it accepts them like a lover, leaving no trace of them behind. 

\---

Obito sees the evidence of Kakashi’s mission on his skin when he lays him out, clean from their shower, across their sheets. His skin is pink again, warm and flushed, steamed back to life in the hot-hot-hot water of the bathroom, but there are stitches down his side and newly healed silvery-plum lines across his thigh. He arches happily into Obito’s touch when the taller man runs a hand up his legs, crawling over him on the mattress, leaving kisses behind like fingerprints. 

“I came back to you,” Kakashi murmurs almost hopefully, voice no longer so tortured now that Rin’s forced soup and dumplings down his throat. Obito kisses him for that, getting his hands in Kakashi’s damp, clean hair and swallowing down his pleased moan when their bodies settle together, practiced continents happy to collide once more. 

“You did,” Obito praises him with his mouth, his hands, his thigh between Kakashi’s mindful of his still-tender scars. 

“I always do,” Kakashi sighs happily, letting his head fall back so that Obito can reclaim his throat again, sucking a slow, hot bruise into the hollow of his neck and shoulder where his mask will rest again tomorrow. “Where else would I go?” 

“This is where you belong,” Obito tells him, an almost rhetorical affirmation, as he settles his arm on the mattress and reaches to curl firm, slick fingers around Kakashi’s cock, dragging a high whine from deep in his lover’s chest. It’s true, as true as the fact that there is nowhere else Kakashi could go- would go- should go. He belongs here, with Obito’s thumb rubbing gentle circles over the dripping head of his cock, sharing long, drugging kisses with his boyfriend, being pressed back into the sheets until his imprint is once again where it should be, next to Obito’s. Their bed is always so empty when he’s gone, empty enough that Obito will often go curl up in Rin’s simply to be able to sleep next to another warm body. But this is perfect, watching Kakashi arch and cry out for him, fingernails digging into Obito’s shoulders like a sharp reminder that he’s really here with him. 

“This is where you belong,” Obito whispers again, taking in his lover’s shuddering, adoring breaths when Kakashi spills over his hand and finally, finally relaxes fully. 

“With you,” Kakashi agrees breathlessly, his eyes dazed and enamored, as he drags Obito down for another kiss, pulling them back together once more. 

All week long, Obito has been waiting for Kakashi to come home, and now he’s finally here. 

  
  



	22. cuckolding + crime (mafia AU minaobikaka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito comes in on his day off and ends up working harder than he'd thought. 
> 
> Feat: unspecified mafia AU, polyamory, cuckolding, dom Minato, sex toys, misuse of the word Boss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank the discord for this one lmao it really got outta hand
> 
> Also, you can pretty much assume Obito and Kakashi are Minato's sugar babies in this basically

He doesn’t really _need_ to be there. 

This morning, when Minato had kissed him on the cheek and bent Obito back over his massive bed, the luxurious sheets that he bought especially to lay them out on, he told Obito that he didn’t need to come into the office. 

“It’s just a Friday full of meetings,” Minato lamented, his voice steady and sure even as Obito bit down on the duvet, curled his hands tightly in the sheets, and tried to keep composure through the searching push of the older man’s fingers. Minato twisted his hand slowly, dragging across sensitive nerves, turning Obito into a live-wire, and Obito swallowed another desperate noise. It never failed to amaze him, the fact that he could have Obito babbling incoherently into the bed but sound as though he was giving a presentation or running a meeting, no sweat. “I don’t know what it is about arms dealers, ‘Bito, but they always want to meet on _Fridays_.” 

He’d left Obito wobbling around the kitchen on weak knees, still hard under his dressing gown (silk, because Minato loves to see his skin against black silk-) and acutely feeling the plug his older lover had pushed into him before smiling cheerily and departing for work. So Obito could have stayed home. He could have taken the day off- after all, it’s not like he had any desire to go into the Senju building and organize whatever they were supposed to do next week preemptively. He knows Kakashi’s already in the office today, since he heard the younger man leave out the front door before he and Minato had even gotten out of bed. But he already misses Minato, the sound of his voice speaking persuasively over the phone, the smiles he gives Obito when he brings the other man a cup of coffee made just the way he likes it, exactly as he’s starting to lose steam. So around noon, precisely when he knows Minato’s going to be hungry, he packs up a lunch and makes the short drive to the office, just to see that sunshine smile when Obito waltzes in with sustenance in a full-to-the-brim bento box. 

“Well,” Minato says consideringly, after he’s kissed Obito hello and taken his lunch from scarred, callused hands. The nice thing about not technically being on duty is that he can wear whatever he wants, and Minato clearly appreciates the look of him in his tight jeans and black tee shirt. He runs a hand down Obito’s side as he unsnaps the lid of his lunchbox with the other. “Since you’re here and you want to help, you can organize files for me. I’m planning to cut everything off by 5 pm today.” 

The problem with trying to organize files there in Minato’s office is that the longer Obito is in his presence, hearing his commanding voice on calls, feeling the weight of the toy inside him, the more Obito _wants_ him. He finds himself shuffling papers back and forth, going between file cabinets unnecessarily just to feel the way the toy shifts and rubs up against sensitive nerves. He doesn’t really need to be here, but now he feels sort of bad about the utter lack of work that’s getting done, because he can hardly manage to remember what it is he’s putting in the filing cabinet once he gets the papers all the way across the room. For all he knows, he could be filing the strange little origami dogs that Kakashi always makes during meetings instead of important paperwork and accounts received. Obito’s starting to realize that maybe Minato telling him he didn’t have to come in was also a kindness he entirely neglected to take advantage of. For forty-five minutes, Minato lets him flounder in ever-increasing distraction, his cheeks a little pink and mind a bit scrambled by trying to alphabetize papers in a font that grows harder to read, before he offers Obito respite. 

“Obito,” Minato calls, his finger on the mute button, and Obito spins around from whatever it was he was doing (messing the books on the shelf again, maybe) and comes forward immediately. When Minato beckons him closer, he gets a hand tangled in his hair, a rough gasp tumbling from his throat, and _down_ he goes- right on his knees, wide eyes looking directly up at blue summer skies. 

“I’m busy,” Minato murmurs, jaw set stern and serious. He’s not disappointed in Obito, per se, but if Obito doesn’t listen, then the younger man can tell he’s about to be. “Sit _still_.” 

“Yes, Boss,” Obito says, on autopilot, completely focused on the tug at the back of his head, the fingers clenched in his hair, the slight sting radiating down to his neck. His knees might be bruised tomorrow, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Shifting down a little bit, he tries to settle on his heels, swallowing heavily and taking a deep breath in to try and relax into this new angle of the toy pressing right up on overstimulated nerve endings. He attempts to zero in on what Minato’s saying, though he’s hopelessly lost this far into negotiations, but the physical sensations alone keep dragging his brain away, mixing words up until their back and forth sounds like nothing more than gibberish. 

Deep breath in. 

Deep breath out. 

He wants Minato to tug his hair harder, to yank his head back until he can bend down and kiss the blush right onto Obito’s face. 

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

He wants Minato to pull him up into his lap and press up against the base of the plug with wonderful, terrible fingers, fucking him passively as he works around Obito’s shuddering body, up against the mahogany desk. It’s too much, overwhelming but not quite _enough_ to settle him down. He squirms again, knees knocking, head resisting just a little against the grip on his hair. He’s trying to be good- always trying to be good for Minato, of course- but the restlessness is still rooted deep in his belly. Minato’s fingers tighten briefly, sensing the tension roiling in his gut, and he pulls on Obito’s hair exactly hard enough to make him gasp. 

“Shhh,” Minato soothes him, so quietly, just low enough that no one on the conference call can hear it. “Sit still,” he repeats, and then his free hand flicks over the button on the little remote he always keeps in his desk, and Obito’s forehead meets his thigh with a dull thud, dropping like a ton of bricks as the plug starts vibrating right against his prostate. “Perfect,” Minato hums, petting over the back of his neck, obscenely pleased by the way Obito goes boneless and soft against him. “Such a good boy.” 

His voice becomes white noise to Obito, a soothing and lilting thing, just the persuasive waves of his negotiation with the dealers that he’s speaking to on behalf of Hashirama. There’s nothing of consequence for Obito to remember- Minato will have it written down, if he does- and so he can focus entirely on the feeling of Minato’s warm muscle through his pants, the way his knees feel on the carpet of the office, the steady and inescapable vibration inside him. That tension in his stomach seeps away, all the fluttery anxiety and adrenaline of trying to focus earlier melting from his bones and dripping down his spine. Phone calls, from one to the next, for an hour, before there’s a knock on the door that cuts through the fog in Obito’s brain. He only has to wonder for a second who it is, because Minato perks up slightly, smirking the way he only does when he’s getting ready to tease Kakashi, and calls the interloper in. 

“Boss, I-” Kakashi starts on his way in, shutting the door behind him on reflex, and then he stops dead in his tracks, eyes zeroing in on Obito’s pink, dazed face pressed up against Minato’s leg. Minato hasn’t taken his hand off the back of Obito’s head and neck the entire time, petting over him gently, a soothing rhythm that only serves to drag him deeper. “Ah.” Kakashi says, a little roughly, as though the sight of Obito and Minato like that has dried his throat entirely. Obito rolls his head a little bit, eyes blinking open blearily, trying to focus on the man he knows is standing there. “I was just looking for Obito,” he starts up again, after taking a noticeable breath. “I needed him for something.” 

“Ah, what a shame,” Minato says, eyes glinting like cold, perfect sapphires. “He’s not available at the moment.” 

“He-” Kakashi swallows, eyes darting back and forth. Dimly, in the back of his honey-sweet-thick-thoughts, Obito recognizes that look on his face. After all, Kakashi is often the one with a hand in his hair, the one kissing him senseless up against the bookcases in this very office, or the one with his cock down Obito’s throat, rasping words of praise tumbling out of his mouth. It’s not uncommon for Kakashi to be between him and Minato, even, and it’s definitely not uncommon for Kakashi to be here on his knees for Minato, paying the price for his frequently sardonic expressions. 

“You and I have a meeting at four, don’t we, Kakashi?” Minato interjects, squeezing the back of Obito’s neck. “Which means you have two more hours to get your files together on that new Kumo gang that’s been encroaching on our territory, and Obito has two more hours to be exactly where he belongs.” The meaning is clear. Kakashi can come back at four, but until then, regardless of what he’d been looking for, Minato has decided he has no need of Obito. 

“Of course, Boss,” Kakashi says, eyes hot on Obito’s curled up form, the way he blinks slow and heavy like a sleepy panther waiting to be called to action. He’s not even sure Obito could respond if he asked him anything directly, at this point. 

The possessive, cold tone coming from Minato sends unexpected heat through Obito’s gut all the same, and his hips squirm back against his heels even as Kakashi backs out the door, his eyes lingering on the two of them with dark intent. When the door clicks shut, Obito presses his mouth to the fabric of Minato’s pants, gasping humid and sloppy as he struggles to contain the way his body wants to _move_. It’s impossible to resist the all-encompassing want that comes with being owned by Minato like this, making his cock wet the front of his boxers helplessly with each kneading roll of Minato’s palm on his neck. He hums happily when Obito finally moans, tortured and raspy, clenching his eyes shut and gripping his own jeans with weak hands as he tries his best to remain still and good, good for him. Pleased with his attempts, Minato flicks the switch once more, turning the plug off, and Obito nearly moans again from the relief of being able to relax his tense muscles. 

“Just rest, darling,” Minato says, rubbing across his shoulders, pulling his cheek down to pillow against Minato’s thigh again. “Just be still with me, for a little while. You can close your eyes, there’s a lovely boy, take some deep breaths for me. You don’t need to pay attention to anything until Kakashi comes back.” 

Obito turns his head a little until he can rest his temple as well as his cheek against Minato’s leg and closes his eyes, breathing through the slowly calming pangs of arousal and the thick, throbbing sensation of his cock begging for attention. He can rest, like this, curled against Minato’s chair, just fingers in his hair and a hazy, honey-sweet fog in his brain. It always feels like a hot stone massage, a day in the sauna, to let Minato take him apart and sink him deep, deep down into that space where all that matters is what Minato asks of him. Time is illusory here, the cadence of Minato’s voice and his pen on paper, the gently rocking boat of his breath in and out against expensive fabric. It could be an hour, or twelve, but all Obito knows is that at some point he does doze off, and he wakes to Minato tugging gently at his hair again, crooning his name sweet and low. 

“Obito,” he murmurs, dragging a fond thumb across his jaw and sliding back a little, shifting his chair until he can spread his knees and pull Obito between them. Obito shuffles across the carpet easily, drawn by the heat in Minato’s eyes and the coaxing of his hands. “It’s been a long day already,” Minato bends down to kiss his forehead, his cheek, tilting him up for a soft brush of their lips. “Are you still well, darling?” 

“Yes,” Obito says, blinking sleep from his eyes, feeling the fire in his gut turn up further and further until the flames are licking at his throat. “Of course.” Minato pulls him even closer until he’s practically face to face with the older man’s erection, and fiddles with the controller from earlier. The first setting of vibration is just as shocking as it had been before, startling a breathless whine from Obito’s throat, and Minato smiles like he’d just signed a million dollar contract. (For all Obito knows, from what he’d missed of the meetings, he had.) Minato’s hand in his hair keeps him upright when he flicks up to the second setting, feeling his hips rock forward without any direction at all. Obito can’t help squirming, knees spread wide and erection back with fully fury, pressing against the zipper of his tight jeans. When he rocks back a little, he can press the plug in even deeper. Minato watches him writhe for it for a minute or two before he lets go of his hair and allows Obito to fall forward and grasp at his knees helplessly, his face once more braced on Minato’s muscled thigh. 

“Oh, I know you just want to be good for me,” Minato coos, gentle fingers brushing Obito’s hair back from his sweat-damp forehead as he pants desperately against Minato’s inner thigh. His cheeks are on fire, so hot that the brush of the other man’s suit pants against his skin explodes across every nerve in his face. “I know it’s so hard to focus, sometimes, waiting your turn for my attention.” 

“Minato,” he mumbles, mouth dropping open a little more, obviously wishing for Minato’s fingers in his mouth (anything, really, of Minato’s in his mouth) and Minato grips his jaw so tightly it almost hurts. 

“We’re in the office, Obito,” he says, steel and expectation. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to behave.” 

“S-sorry, _Boss_ ,” Obito stutters, his throat aching with want, with desire, with the need burning deep in his stomach. Minato gives him that smile, the one tinged with pride and enjoyment of his easy obedience. It makes his thighs clench, pressing together, fire and sharp pangs of arousal, because that’s how he’s been conditioned, after all. He knows how to behave to get rewards, and the rewards Minato gives him are so, so worth the effort. With great effort, he manages to still himself, despite the consuming buzz of the toy and the aching, tight sensation of a building orgasm rising in his gut. 

“That’s better,” Minato murmurs, tilting his jaw up and brushing a soft thumb over his lower lip. “Such a polite boy. You’ve waited all afternoon for me, haven’t you?” Obito nods fervently, eyes caught on the glint of Minato’s teeth in his mouth, recalling how good they feel sunk deep in his shoulder, or his leg, or his own lips. Minato’s leg shifts, just slightly, until his shin presses up against Obito’s obvious erection, and Obito is helpless to stop himself from rolling up into it. “I wanted to take you both out to dinner tonight,” he muses, pressing his thumb in as Obito’s mouth drops further open, a thin whine coming from his throat at the sensation. “But I can’t take you to a nice restaurant like _this_ , so we’re going to have to do something to fix it.” 

“Please,” Obito swallows heavily, voice rasping tight in his throat. “Boss, I would- I’d like. I want that.” 

“I know,” Minato reassures him, completely unconcerned. He does, he knows Obito’s desires like the back of his hand. He knows how his lover wants so desperately to please him, how he adores it when Minato takes him out on romantic evenings, how he blushes to have his knuckles kissed and the car door opened for him, despite the fact that Obito’s noticeably broader, taller, stronger than Minato is. He knows how Obito’s mouth will water when he takes his hand off the younger man’s jaw and uses it to unzip his pants, barely holding himself back from putting his slack mouth all over Minato’s erection. “Kakashi will be here soon, I’m sure. He knows to be on time for important appointments like this.” With barely a hint of effort, Minato pulls his zipper down further, tucking his boxers down far enough that his erection springs loose and slaps up against his stomach, leaving a slight wet spot on his shirt. Obito swallows hard, blown pupils focused entirely on it, and Minato laughs softly. His hands twitch on Minato’s knees, bracing himself, and Minato can tell from the shivering, quaking of his muscles that he’s close without even realizing it just from the toy and the way Minato’s speaking to him. 

“If you’re very good,” Minato murmurs, sitting back and settling his hands on the arms of his chair like a king. “I’ll let you come with your mouth on my cock, pretty boy.” Obito practically whimpers, dark eyes wide and pleading, fingers shaking as he bends forward. Minato smirks widely as he drops his mouth sweetly over the head of Minato’s cock just as Kakashi slips through the door, the clock hands at 4 pm exactly. Obito startles slightly at the sound of those familiar footsteps, but Minato’s hand on the back of his head urges him further down, and he relaxes into it with a muffled moan. Minato’s always too big to fit entirely in his throat, thick and long and everything that satisfies the itch deep in Obito’s gut to be filled, but like this he can wrap a trembling hand around whatever doesn’t fit in his throat and enjoy the way Minato literally takes his breath away. 

“Boss,” Kakashi’s measured tone echoes dimly in Obito’s cotton-filled ears, a faint shiver of arousal tinging the edge of his voice. “The accounts you wanted closed are handled. I received the receipts from Kakuzu this afternoon.” 

“Perfect,” Minato hums, leaning forward and not even letting his voice stutter as his motion fucks him further into Obito’s throat, until his muscles spasm around Minato and his attempted gasp flutters around the head of his cock. His knees shove Obito a little further back, until Obito’s legs are sprawled wide again and he can breathe, pushed under Minato’s desk like an accessory. It makes his cock twitch in his pants, boxers entirely damp with precome and eyes clenched shut from the pure arousal of being manhandled, pushed around as though he’s nothing more than convenient furniture to fuck while Minato rifles through the papers Kakashi’s brought him. He sucks Minato’s cock like he’s in a fucking dream, laving his tongue over the thick length of it and trying not to drool too much. The rising edge in his stomach makes it hard not to, shuddering through waves of pleasure that build up and up without any stimulation on his erection at all, until he’s whining and squirming and trying to hold off as best as he can. Minato pauses above him, his fingers tangling in Obito’s hair again. 

“You need to come, darling?” Minato purrs, ignoring the way Kakashi chokes on the other side of the desk. Obito nods as best as he can, feeling that knot tighten further and further, and his cheeks go cherry at the thought of coming like this, with Minato’s cock down his throat and not a finger laid on him at all. “Go on, then,” Minato say, so sweetly, as though he’s gifting Obito something precious, and he shifts to pull Obito further down again, shuddering at the way his weak moans vibrate around the head of his erection as Obito just- lets _go_ . It’s overwhelming, made even more so when Minato flicks the vibrator up one notch further just as he feels Obito start to come, Obito’s muscles trembling and tightening up until he’s unable to breathe, to think, to imagine what comes next after this. There’s fire in his veins and sharp, overstimulated electricity running through his stomach, and he feels his vision go a little dark before Minato yanks him back all the way off, his mouth wet and open and gasping. His boxers are fully wet, a dark spot spreading across the crotch of his jeans, and his head is spinning, and oh- god- fuck the plug is _still_ going. He squirms weakly, trying to hold on to anything, and Minato smiles down at him on the edge of a knife. 

“Oh, so sloppy,” he teases Obito kindly, running a thumb across Obito’s swollen lower lip, the streak of precome down his jaw, the spit at the corners of his mouth, before he fucks two thick fingers in and smiles with feral glee at the way Obito instinctively closes around them again. He lets Obito twine his sore tongue around his fingers, breathing through his nose as he comes down from the peak and Minato finishes up talking over the receipts. When Minato waves Kakashi towards the filing cabinet with them, ordering him to put them away, he rolls his chair back and pulls Obito forward with him. 

“Boss,” Kakashi tries again, shutting the filing cabinet with a click, and Minato simply waves once more. 

“Now that you’ve so kindly cleaned my desk off, Kakashi,” Minato says, drawing Obito up on jelly legs, helping him wiggle a little until the blood comes back to his knees, before his clever fingers, still damp with Obito’s spit, unbuckle his pants. “Won’t you sit down for me?” 

Kakashi swallows visibly, heaving a deep breath as he watches Obito’s jeans get dragged down, his wet boxers, his shoes slipped off until he’s bare from the waist down and listing slightly, riding high on the endorphins of Minato’s praise and his orgasm. With slow movements, like he’s facing a predator, a tiger free of his chains, he makes his way over to the armchair that’s about six feet in front of Minato’s desk, settling into it warily. Minato helps Obito up onto his massive desk, arranging him gently until he’s flat on his back with his feet braced on Minato’s chair, Minato leaning down between his spread legs to cup his fire-hot cheeks and kiss him deeply. It feels perfect, to get this, to feel Minato licking the traces of his own cock out of Obito’s mouth, He bites Obito’s lower lip nearly bloody, kissing every moan out of his throat and swallowing his breath until he’s panting and squirming, feeling arousal heavy in his gut once more. Obito almost forgets that Kakashi’s there, kiss-drunk and still so deep down in that sweet space where Minato’s commands mean everything to him, until Minato’s hand fumbles slightly and pulls the lube free from his desk drawer. 

His fingers are cool on Obito’s ass, pushing mercilessly up against the toy settled there and dragging a whimper from his lover before he pulls gently, slowly, inexorably until Obito feels empty, empty, empty again. 

“Shh, don’t worry,” he murmurs, slipping two fingers in right away and curling up to drag across overstimulated muscles. “I’ll fill you up, pretty boy, I promise.” 

“Boss- _Minato_ ,” Kakashi groans, fabric shifting and sliding, his feet thumping restlessly against the floor as he watches Obito whine for Minato’s fingers in his ass. Minato ignores him entirely, watching as Obito tries to roll his hips up into the too-much-just-right touch and bends his head up to make hazy eye contact with the older man. 

“No, no,” Minato clicks his tongue, fingers sliding around Obito’s throat, pushing him back. “Head back down, darling. There you go.” He lets his neck fall limp, head hanging back over the edge of Minato’s desk, and Obito can feel his cheeks getting redder and redder because like this- spread out, his hands clenched tight on Minato’s shoulders, his feet braced wide on the desk, his head flung back, he can see the way Kakashi’s eyes watch them hungrily, tracking every thrust of Minato’s fingers into his ass. “I taught you how important eye contact is, didn’t I? We have a guest, and it’s important to make sure he feels included.” Kakashi makes a stifled noise, fingers twitching on the arms of his chair, pink bleeding from his cheeks down to his throat. 

“Y-yes, sir,” Obito chokes out, crying out helplessly when Minato slides a third finger in and spreads them, stretching him wide. He knows from experience that it’s necessary, in order to take Minato’s cock, but it feels like a tease when he’s so hard that he’s dripping on his own stomach yet again, wanting nothing more than to be filled. 

“He’s so lovely, isn’t he?” Minato says, almost wistfully, eyes dark on Kakashi’s pink face, on the tortured clench of his teeth as he stops himself bodily from reaching out and touching their lover. “And so hot inside, all worked up from having that plug in all day long. So good for us, Obito,” he praises him, knocking up against his prostate and rubbing across it until Obito’s whimpering high and broken and breathless for them, precome spurting out and staining his shirt. He doesn’t give Obito much warning before pulling his fingers out, pressing one of Obito’s thighs up against his chest so that he can fit the head of his cock against Obito’s lube-slick ass and slide in with one long stroke. 

“Aa-aah, f-fuck, uh, uh, _Boss-_ ” Obito gasps, swearing and feeling his head connect with the wood of the desk as he falls further back, making eye contact with Kakashi as Minato bottoms out in his ass. Kakashi looks like he’d give anything to reach out and touch Obito’s sweaty, flushed, worked up face, his cock straining against his work pants and his thighs spread wide as though the lack of pressure from the outside might help the valve building up in his gut. Minato gives Obito no quarter, fucking in without pause in long, steady strokes that rub at his prostate and send shocks of electricity through his uncoordinated limbs, each thrust pulling another broken moan from his rasping throat. 

“Ah, you feel so wonderful, darling,” Minato purrs, grinding in deep and rocking his hips up to make sure Obito feels every inch of his erection, full and panting for the way it drives every other coherent thought out of his brain. “I bet you’d like to feel him too, wouldn’t you, Kakashi?” 

“Yes, Boss, I would, yes, _please-_ ” Kakashi stumbles over his words, answering as quickly as possibly, a pleading look in his hungry eyes, fingers shaking from clenching his chair so hard, breath fast in his chest. Obito thinks hazily about how good it would be to relax his head even further back, to open his mouth and let Kakashi fuck in all the way, deep in his throat, the two of them using him endlessly. How perfect Minato’s fingers around his neck would feel, pressing in as Kakashi’s cock bulged out, and how fucking _good_ it would feel to have both of them come in him like that. Fuck, _fuck-_

“Please,” he whines, echoing Kakashi’s desperation, trembling leg jerking against Minato’s steady arm. Minato hums, breath a little unsteady now as he fucks in deeper, chasing the finish line with single-minded determination. 

“Mm-hm,” Minato bends down to kiss at Obito’s neck, the hollow of his collarbone, stretching him to his limits and biting with cruel, perfectly white teeth until purple blooms there, bleeding through the flush staining his skin. “Well, you know who’s in charge, don’t you, Kakashi?” Minato asks, amusement in every inch of his tone, smirk pressed to Obito’s skin briefly before he straightens up again and settles back, fucking Obito hard enough that the breath is punched directly out of his lungs, his cock twitching on his stomach and his hands clenching down so tight on Minato’s shoulders that his fingers actually hurt. 

“ _Yes_ , Boss,” Kakashi chokes, huffing as Obito actually lets out a shattered little yell, Minato’s hand coming up to grasp his erection firmly and stroke it in cruel counterpoint to his thrusts. 

“Such good boys,” Minato sighs, fingernails digging into Obito’s thigh and pulling it even wider. “Mm, I suppose I could let you have my sloppy seconds, then,” he smirks feral and sharp, grinning teeth as he squeezes around Obito’s cock and urges him through his second orgasm, spilling hot and slick over Minato’s perfectly manicured hand. He fills Obito up like it’s his damn job, fucking in with an obscenely wet sound as he comes, shuddering through his orgasm and relishing in the way Obito squirms and whimpers for it, for the feeling of his come hot and spilling out of his well-fucked ass. For a minute, he just breathes there, arching over his own hands to kiss Obito quiet, gentling him down until he can see past the white spots in his vision once more before he looks back up at Kakashi’s tortured face. 

“Well?” Minato pulls back, using his pocket handkerchief to clean himself up before he tucks his cock back into his pants and straightens his shirt, not bothering to even touch Obito. “Get to it, then, if you want to come before we have to go get dressed for dinner.” 

With a stuttered groan, Kakashi springs out of his seat, and Obito accepts him with only dazed, honey-warm love in his fumbling, clumsy, pleasure-lax movements, Minato watching them both like a cat content with his kill. 

They end up being horribly late to dinner.


End file.
